Towards a new age
by theStarchilde
Summary: SEQUEL to Between the darkness and the light set two years after. Dean disappears and Sam returns to Babylon 5 in search of answers. Author's note inside.
1. Chapter 1

**TOWARDS** **A NEW AGE**

 **Welcome to my Between the Darkness and the Light" sequel. First off, it's kinda neccesary to read/skim over that one first, otherwise you'll be wondering what the hell's going on here ;). As a little recap, though: this is an AU, which places the characters of Supernatural in the Babylon 5 universe and timeline.**

 **This story takes place around two years after Between the Darkness and the Light, during season five of Babylon 5 and post-season 7 for Supernatural (don't expect me to follow much of the season 8 plot, though. I won't force my personal opinions as to the direction Supernatural took after season 7 here. The only thing you need to know is that I needed a different direction for my story.) That will become obvious pretty soon, though.**

 **One more thing: plotwise, the story's pretty much finished and I know where I'm going with it. I do appologise, however, if, at some point, updates might become infrequent. Rest assured that will be only because I'm busy with other stuff and not because I've abandoned the story for some reason.**

 **And now on with the story. Enjoy! :)**

 **I still don't own _Babylon 5 or Supernatural_**

 **Chapter 1 Of loss and discoveries**

 **En route to Babylon 5**

The ship flew at great speed through space. It had been a long time since it experienced such urgency. But Sam Winchester was in a hurry. He had to get to Babylon 5 that very day. Otherwise his plan – his last chance to see his brother – would fail.

After Dean disappeared in the explosion that took out the Leviathans, Sam felt as if his entire world had collapsed around him. For the first time in his life he did not know what to do with himself. He did not even know how to define himself anymore – and no wonder, since the last person who had known him for who he really was had gone. Sam was alone. And he found out that he could not be _Sam Winchester_ anymore now that he was the last of his family.

For many days Sam had simply flown in the _Impala_ , without no clear destination. He rarely landed anywhere, unless he needed supplies. He cut himself off from the few acquaintances still alive. He did not hunt. He did not even try. He knew he did not have the energy for the actions and thought processes a hunt would entail. He barely had the energy to drive the ship as it was. Most of the times, he left it on automatic and just allowed it to drift.

And the world changed around him. He could care less about it, though. Events that would have previously gotten him tremendously interested meant almost nothing for him. There was not much point in thinking about the success of the newly-formed Interstellar Alliance, if Dean was not there to argue with him on the strangeness of an alliance ruled by a human and a Minbari (not to mention about the quirks of mixing politics and marriage as Sheridan and Delenn were doing, Dean would have had a field day with that one).

Only one piece of news managed to shake Sam a little. Some days before, he heard rumours of the approach of a mysterious Brakiri festival called the Day of the Dead. There were a lot of strange things being said about that feast. The most notable was that the dead supposedly visited the living that night. Many people took that as a metaphor. The Brakiri took it seriously enough though – to the extent that they decreed no Hunter should be present on Brakir throughout the festivals. People who hunted ghosts for a living had no business taking part in such an event.

But Sam wanted to be there. He felt that he needed to be there. Because he knew he would remain stuck in this limbo he was now, unable to move on, unless he had some kind of closure. Unless he had a talk with Dean. One last talk, that was all he was asking for. He would see afterwards where he was supposed to go from there.

The only problem was, there was no way he could sneak on Brakir for the festival. He was famous enough among those that knew about the Hunting community. He would not be able to get to the planet undetected. He did not think he would succeed much even if he did tell the Brakiri why he wanted to be there in the first place. The Brakiri respected Hunters, but few actually held any sympathy for them.

If Brakir was out, there was still a place that Sam could reach. Sources told him the Brakiri intended to buy part of the Babylon 5 stations temporarily for their ceremony. It would be easy for Sam to sneak on Babylon 5 and get himself quarters in that part of the station for the night. By the time anyone who knew him would realise he was there, he would have probably accomplished his task. Afterwards…well, Sam was not really thinking too much about an _afterwards_. He only wanted to have this one thing done.

Which was why the ship – _Dean's_ ship – was speeding towards Babylon 5 once again, almost as desperate as Sam to get there.

 **Babylon 5, Sam Winchester's temporary quarters**

Sam managed to sneak on the station without too much trouble. Everyone was much too busy with the arrival of comedians Rebo and Zooty. Renting quarters in what was going to temporarily be Brakiri space also went off without a glitch, even though Sam narrowly missed being spotted by the Brakiri Ambassador. Sam knew Kullenbrak personally – he and Dean had saved his family from a shtriga some years back. Kullenbrak was still grateful to them, but Sam somehow doubted that gratitude would extend to having a Hunter anywhere near their Day of the Dead festivities.

Sam paced his quarters nervously. There was not much for him to do now, except wait for Dean to appear. Unless, of course, the whole Day of the Dead thing was indeed a metaphor and Sam was actually wasting his time. He did not know what he was going to do, if that turned out to actually be true.

Being on Babylon 5 again was difficult. It was not only that the last time Sam had been there, Dean was with him and he was reminded keenly of that – the only thing he was grateful was that he did not have now the same quarters as the last time, he did not think he could have handled that. There was also that fact that Sam was convinced their failed mission on Babylon 5 was what had led to Dean being gone in the first place. If Sam had not destroyed the talisman, Castiel would have been free to use it in his fight with Raphael. He would not have had to use extreme measures such as breaking open the door to Purgatory. He would not have accidentally freed the Leviathans. And, consequently, Dean would not have died in the explosion meant to take them down. There would have probably been other messes – that talisman, after all, would have been a dangerous thing to have around. But at least Sam would have had Dean at his side when he faced them.

Sam shook his head. He was sure Dean would not have seen it that way. There were a lot of other factors that led to Castiel opening that door to Purgatory. But Sam could not stop himself from thinking that it was during that mission on Babylon 5 that things had begun to go downhill.

"Sam?"

Sam spun round at the sound of the new voice. For the moment all he could feel was disappointment. It was not that the voice belonged to someone he did not care for. It was just that it was not the person he most wanted to see. His frowning eyes met the confused gaze of Bobby Singer and for a moment he did not know what to say.

"Hello, Sam," Bobby greeted.

"It's you," Sam declared and he did not have the energy to muster too much joy at the discovery.

Bobby's eyebrows went up.

"Expecting someone else?" he asked cautiously.

"Dean," Sam said quickly. "I was hoping to talk to Dean."

"Dean's dead?" Bobby asked puzzled.

Sam hesitated. Until then, he had been convinced it was so. There was no way Dean could have survived the explosion. True, Sam had found no bodies. But he had never once entertained the idea that Dean might not be dead, after all.

Not until now, when he was face to face with Bobby. Sam knew Dean. He knew that, whatever rules this Day of the Dead of the Brakiri had, if there was an opportunity to get to Sam, Dean would have done it. He would have defied every rule in existence to see Sam.

"If Dean was dead, he'd be here instead of you," Sam discovered.

"I should say so," Bobby agreed. "He'd also kick my ass all over the afterlife if there was this one chance to talk to you and I was using it instead of him."

"Dean's not dead, then," Sam concluded.

The surge of hope he felt at that was almost paralysing. For a moment, he could focus on nothing else but that. It was only a few seconds later that he started to feel concerned. Because even if Dean might not be dead, he still was not there.

"Where is he then?" he wanted to know. "The last thing I know he and Cas vanished in an explosion to take down the Leviathan."

Bobby looked sharply at that.

"You mean," he began, "to send the Leviathan back to Purgatory? Maybe that's where he and Cas went too."

Sam frowned.

"They're in Purgatory, you mean? Is that even possible? But, if they're there, how do I get them out?"

Bobby sat down heavily in a chair. Since he was there for the night anyway, he might as well spend it helping Sam with his problem. Just like old times.

"There were always rumours," he informed Sam, "About a place like Purgatory being well known in the alien worlds. And about some races even being aware of portals to that place. Portals that were supposedly less harmful than the one Cas opened."

"I've never heard any of these rumours," Sam said.

"Well, there was nothing concrete," Bobby pointed out. "At least, I couldn't find anything concrete on them. But I think I know someone who might. He's called Aiden the Strange for some reason. He's a Purgatory expert. Lives on Proxima 3 – or at least that's the last I heard of him."

"How come you never mentioned him before?" Sam wanted to know.

Bobby sighed heavily.

"We didn't exactly part as friends," he confessed. "We had a bit of a falling out – he'd never talk to me afterwards. No matter the stakes. To be honest, I'm not sure he'd talk to you, either."

"Oh, he'll talk to me all right," Sam said dangerously. "One way or the other, he's gonna tell me everything I want to know."

Bobby could see that Sam was indeed determined to go through with this. Not that Bobby was surprised or that he would not have probably done the same, had he been in Sam's shoes. But he could not help wondering whether Sam actually knew the difficulty of the task he was about to undertake.

"It won't be easy," he felt the need to remind Sam. "You'll have to travel to a lot of alien worlds – ask a bunch of unwanted questions. They might not be willing to answer you. You know how some of those League folks are. They don't trust humans. Hell, they hardly trust each other."

Sam knew that. He was a bit more optimistic than Bobby. For one, the situation had changed since Bobby died.

"A lot of things have happened to the galaxy since you left. The League's dissolved, there's an Interstellar Alliance now, which will make moving around easier. And I think I can get those I deal with to accept me. I think I can find a way."

Sam was actually already forming a plan in his mind. It was not going to depend wholly on him – but, if he could pull it off, he would at least have the chance to move around as he pleased and go anywhere he needed to in order to get Dean out of Purgatory. Because there was no question of him not rescuing his brother, now that he knew he was not dead. After all, the reason why Sam had wanted to take part in the Brakiri Day of the Dead was so that he could get a new purpose. And it appeared he had been given one. He had to get his brother back.


	2. Chapter 2 Allies

**Ch** **apter 2 Allies**

 **Hello again. Chapter two is here. Thanks for your reviews and your continuing interest in these stories. I hope you'll enjoy this one, too.**

 **Nothing that you recognise belongs to me and I am making no profit out of it.**

 **Purgatory**

"Look, man, you can't tell me we haven't been in this spot before at least twice. You know, when we agreed to have you as a guide, we also thought you'd actually know your way around this place, at least a little."

Dean glared at the newest addition to their little group. About a week had passed since he and Castiel had encountered Benny the vampire and decided to trust him – or, better said, to trust that it was in his best interest to show them that way out he apparently knew. And while Dean had to agree Benny was fairly decent for a vampire – at least, he had not instantly jumped at their throats like every other creature in Purgatory – he had a big problem with the vampire's apparent lack of orientation.

"Purgatory is not all the time a real physical place, Dean," Castiel reminded him. "It is so much more than your mind can understand. It can play tricks on you, stir you in the wrong direction. Breaking out is not as easy as breaking in."

Dean bit back the _you would know_ that was on the tip of his tongue. He and Cas had played the blame game early on during their stay in Purgatory – Dean pointing out that technically, Cas was the one who freed the Leviathan and them being there now was partly his fault and Cas insisting that he would not have had to resort to such drastic measures if he had possessed other means to take down Raphael (such as a certain talisman Dean and his brother had failed to retrieve). Such arguments were pointless and were going to lead nowhere. Most certainly, they were not going to lead to a way out.

Dean glanced at Benny, who was on the lookout on a high hill.

"You'd better find the right way this time," he threatened. "Otherwise we might have to reconsider our business relationship."

Benny did not answer. His posture looked tense. Dean tensed, too, instinctively. There must be something out there, something they did not want to encounter. It seemed they would be starting to fight early today.

Benny turned swiftly away from whatever sight had alarmed him and sped down the hill towards the other two.

"Quickly," he said pointing to the undergrowth of dark trees. "We've got to hide. Wait until they pass."

"Wait until who passes?" Dean asked frowning. "Shouldn't we try and take whatever's coming by surprise so that it won't bother us later?"

"We can't fight what's coming," Benny said gravely. "And they won't be of any concern to us later on. They don't care about us – not as long as we don't stand in their way."

Dean was about to ask more questions. But Castiel seemed eager to follow Benny's advice – clearly he knew more than Dean about whatever was coming. There was no time to argue, so the free of them left the path and disappeared in the undergrowth. They remained close, though.

The first hint that Dean had of something approaching was a strange murmur coming from beyond the hill. It sounded like a thousand voices – old and tired and so very lonely. It chilled him to the bone. Suddenly, he thought of Sam and wished he had his brother's unwavering support in that twisted place.

A strange procession appeared down the hill, moving determinedly along the path. It was led by some unknown creature, clearly alien. His eyes were blank. He was muttering as he walked. He carried a lantern with him, and Dean had the impression that it wasn't for him as much as for those that followed him.

His followers were a sinister bunch. They walked after him without question, their faces equally blank. They were not monsters, not from what Dean could tell. Some of them were humans. Others were aliens. Dean was able to spot quite a few Minbari. They glided down the path, following their leader wherever he went. Dean gazed at them in horror.

The eerie procession passed and vanished into the mists that rose to swallow them. The sound of their murmurs was the last to be gone.

"All right, consider me creeped out," Dean declared. "What the hell was that?"

"I take it you haven't heard of Soul Hunters," Benny remarked calmly.

"I'm afraid you're dealing with the less informed of the Winchester Brothers," Dean quipped. "Should I have heard of them?"

"Their kind believes that souls live on only if they take them and care for them," Benny replied. "They steal the souls of those they think are most worthy. Actually, they think they're doing the poor sods a favour."

"Stealing a soul is, of course, one of the most heinous of acts," Castiel went on. "The punishment needs to be fitting. Which is why after death they wander aimlessly through Purgatory."

Dean felt sick.

"What about those that followed the freak?" he wanted to know.

Castiel looked grave.

"The souls he stole in life are still bound to him," he informed. "They must follow him to his punishment. They are trapped – with nowhere to go. They must follow their captor for eternity."

"Can't we rescue them?" Dean asked.

"No!" Castiel exclaimed vehemently.

He knew how Dean's mind worked. If he got the idea to rescue someone, he usually did a lot of reckless things until he managed to accomplish his task. But there would be no task to be accomplished here.

"Need I remind you we can't get out of here ourselves, brother?" Benny pointed out reasonably. "We can't afford to rescue anyone else."

Dean did not say anything. He knew both Benny and Castiel had a point and he hated it. he hated that Purgatory was taking all his principles away from him, making him do things he would have never done before. And above anything else, he hated the way Benny kept calling him _brother_. As far as Dean was concerned, that name was already taken.

 **Babylon 5**

As soon as Bobby vanished next morning, Sam got ready to put his plan into action. Bobby was right. He needed an identity that would help him move freely in many different alien worlds. He needed to be trusted. His true identity would not work. Many of his usual covers would not work either – not everywhere. But he knew what identity would. One of the main conditions of the Interstellar Alliance was the unquestioning recognition of the autonomy of the Rangers. The Rangers could go anywhere and ask anything – no one would question them. No one would mistrust them.

There was only one wrinkle in that plan. Sam was not sure that getting his hands on a uniform and finding something that looked remotely like the trademark jewel all the Rangers wore would be enough. He did not think that travelling in a personal ship would help his claim to be a Ranger, either. No, he needed more. He needed the support of someone close to the organisation – someone, like the leader of the organisation herself.

Sam wasted no time. It was much too early for a business call, but he did not really care. He headed towards Delenn's quarters and rang the bell. There was no answer. Irritated, he rang again. Still nothing. Sam shook his head. He had no idea where Delenn could be at that hour in the morning, but he was not going to miss the opportunity to talk to her. He was going to wait right there until Delenn came from wherever she was gone, and she was damn well going to see him.

After half an hour, he saw Delenn coming from down the corridor. She looked completely taken aback to spot Sam Winchester of all people standing next to her quarters.

"And so we meet again, Mr Winchester," she remarked.

"Finally!" Sam exclaimed. "That is, excuse me, Ambassador, but I really wanted to talk to you and you were not there…"

"No, I was not," Delenn replied. "Which is probably good for you. John and I alternate between our quarters and I doubt he would have been too pleased to find you hanging in front of the door first thing in the morning. Now that you are here, shall we go in?"

Delenn entered her quarters, motioning to Sam to follow her. Sam wasted no time in doing that.

"I need your help," he got straight to the point. "Something is wrong, and if you don't offer me the support I need, I won't be able to fix this."

Delenn had suspected from the first that something was wrong. She could see it very well in Sam's tense posture. Sam was worried. And she had a shrewd suspicion concerning the target of his worry.

"Is this about your brother?" she asked.

Sam nodded quickly.

"Dean's…Dean's gone. At first I thought he was dead. That's why I came here, actually. Because of the Day of the Dead."

Delenn frowned at that.

"I thought Hunters were banned from the celebration," she pointed out. Seeing Sam's slightly baffled look, she smiled slightly: "I am on the Advisory Board of the Interstellar Alliance. I hear such things."

"You could probably report me to the Brakiri, I suppose," Sam said. "But I didn't want to interfere with their celebration in any way. I just wanted to see Dean one last time.

"But I didn't. Someone else came to me last night. Which leads me to believe Dean's not dead. If he was dead and had the opportunity to come to me he would have taken it. You knew Dean. Tell me I'm wrong…Dean isn't dead, he's lost. He's in a place we call Purgatory. A sort of…other plane of existence…monsters go there when they die. There are portals leading to that place. Have you heard of anything like this?"

Delenn looked uncomfortable.

"Only rumours," she stated. "Legends. Nothing clear and nothing to take seriously. If you have come to me for information about this place – I am afraid I will have to disappoint you."

Sam, however, shook his head.

"No, I know where to go for information," Sam replied. "At least, I know where to start. But my search for answers might take me quite a long way. I will have to interact with a lot of people in the Interstellar Alliance. I need to ensure their cooperation. This is where you come in."

"How do I come in?" Delenn wanted to know. "What do you think I can give you?"

"Uhm…one of those uniforms and that jewel thingy the Rangers wear would be nice," Sam answered promptly, deciding to get straight to the point. "And, whenever possible, if I could hitch a ride on your White Stars, if they're in the area, that would be great too."

Sam noticed Delenn frowning. He knew he had to be as convincing as possible, otherwise he would lose her as an ally.

"I'm willing to help in any way that I can," he said quickly. "I could help on the ship with whatever duties I'd be able to do. And if you need me to keep an eye out for anything in particular where I'm going, I could do that, too. I'm willing to help you, as long as you agree to help me."

"You are not the first to join – or pretend to join, however you want to put it – the Rangers for something other than yourself," Delenn told him. "And usually when such things happen, they do not end well."

"I'm doing this for Dean," Sam declared firmly. "Which means I am doing this for myself."

Delenn still did not look convinced. Sam went to sit next to her. He knew he had to go for the big guns, if he wanted to keep her on his side.

"I've heard the rumours about John Sheridan," he announced bluntly. "About how he died at Z'ha'dum and then came back. Now you tell me this, Delenn: do you remember how you felt when you thought he was gone and not coming back? Think how it felt then and tell me if you wouldn't do anything in your power to ensure that no one ever felt that way. I know I would."

Delenn sprang up and remained standing, with her back to Sam. Her posture was tense and, for a moment, Sam was afraid he might have pushed too hard. But when Delenn spoke her tone was composed enough.

"I suppose you are right," she said in the end. "I should help you. It does not do not to deprive someone of help, when you have the means to offer it. Where do you plan to go first?"

"I'll be taking a transport ship to Proxima 3," Sam answered. "I have someone there who could give me some answers. I don't know where I'll go from there."

"Good," Delenn said, turning to face him once more. "White Star 53 is scheduled to pass through Proxima in a few days. They will take you to your next destination – or as close to it as possible. I will also have a Ranger's uniform delivered to your quarters tonight."

"Thank you," Sam said earnestly. "And…well, I'll have to leave my ship here, could you make sure it stays safe? It's Dean's and he loves it. In many ways, it's the only home we know."

"I will see what I can do," Delenn replied. "However, when all this is over, I might need a favour from you and your brother."

Sam felt slightly nervous about this. Still, he told himself reasonably, he should not have expected to get so many things from Delenn for free.

"Fair enough," he said. "Well, then I should go find a transport to take me to Proxima. Thanks for this. Really."

Delenn nodded once.

"You were right about one thing," she admitted. "I do know what you are going through – and that is why I need to help. I hope your search will prove successful."

"Thank you," Sam said again, then added, after a brief hesitation: "Entil'zha."

A small smile appeared on Delenn's face.

"You are learning," she remarked. "Good luck."


	3. Chapter 3 The search begins

**Chapter 3 The search begins**

 **Glad to see people following and favouriting this story. Thanks very much for your interest. Hope you'll keep on liking it :)**

 **Next chapter below. Nothing you recognise belongs to me, as usual.**

 **Enjoy!**

 **Proxima 3**

Aiden looked up at the tall man who entered his shop. He shook his head. He would recognise that posture anywhere. He had seen it plenty of times in his "special" customers. Out front, Aiden sold old curiosities from Earth to eccentric collectors. He ran another business on the side, though, one far more lucrative.

"You people should wear billboards," he commented. "It would make you less obvious."

The newcomer grinned slightly.

"We're only obvious to those that know us," he pointed out. "You Aiden the Strange?"

Aiden nodded.

"That's right," he said. "Although it's more polite to drop the "Strange" thing. I didn't choose to be called that. And you are?"

"Sam," the other replied, indicating that was the only thing he wished to reveal.

Aiden shrugged his shoulders disinterestedly. He rarely got the full names of his Hunter customers anyway. When he did, they usually were not their real names, anyway.

"All right, Sam," he said. "I've got some stuff that might interest you. Care to follow me in the back?"

Aiden led Sam to the back of his store, where an assortment of old weapons, strange objects, and jars with what looked suspiciously like blood were piled. He pointed to a big rifle.

"Have a look at this," he said. "Got rock-salt bullets and all. _Very_ old-fashioned, hasn't been used since the 21st century, but quite efficient. Any Hunter needs one. It will cost, of course, but it's plenty worth it."

Sam took the rifle at as if to test its balance. He made a show of inspecting it.

"Handy," he praised, still looking at it. "I'm not here for supplies, though. I want some information. About Purgatory."

Aiden drew a sharp breath. His friendly manner vanished.

"I think you should go," he said tightly. "You're not welcome here."

Sam raised his eyebrows, looking puzzled.

"Why not?" he asked innocently. "What did I do?"

"Only one person knows I've been gathering knowledge about Purgatory," Aiden replied. "And he's no longer a friend of mine. You can remind Bobby Singer of that."

"Bobby Singer is dead," Sam informed Aiden. "And whatever beef you had with him, I've got nothing to do with it."

"If Singer cared about you enough to send you to me, I don't feel like helping you on principle," Aiden said. "Any friend of Singer's is not a friend of mine and I'm not that badly in need of business to help you."

"You're not helping me because you're in need of business," Sam told him dangerously. "You're helping me because you're the type of man that cares about self-preservation."

Saying that, Sam raised the rifle, pointing it at Aiden. His demeanour told clearly that he was not going to hesitate, if he did not get what he came for. Aiden scoffed.

"I did mention it's got rock salt in it, right?" he pointed out. "It won't kill me."

"Course not," Sam replied, not missing a beat. "It'll hurt like hell, though. It will also give me the opportunity to ask you again….and then shoot you again, if you don't answer. And so on. Although, that's not really how I'd like to spend my day. So, how about you stop wasting your time and mine, save yourself a whole lot of pain and get over whatever Bobby did to piss you off."

"Singer betrayed me," Aiden snapped. "That's not something you usually get over."

"I highly doubt it," Sam said. "Bobby would never betray a friend – not willingly."

"Oh no?" Aiden asked sarcastically. "You don't know the context do you? I'm in this dump of a planet because of Singer. He was the one to sic the authorities on me. I used to live on Earth. I was quite a successful Hunter. People respected me. Singer respected me. The thing is – he heard one of my unconventional ideas and started disagreeing with me. See, in this age the definition of a monster has become rather shady. Plenty of monsters here in space. But we don't call them that. Oh no, we ally ourselves with them, and have trade relations and have them take the jobs of decent, hard-working humans, some even go as far as to ruin the purity of the human race by marrying the bloody freaks..."

Sam shifted on his feet, beginning to lose patience.

"Save the Home Guard speech for someone who actually cares," he snapped. "And get to the point."

"Singer found out I was hunting those kinds of monsters too," Aiden told Sam.

Sam looked disgusted.

"You were killing aliens," he discovered. "For no reason."

"Did you know rock salt is fatal for Pak'm'ara?" Aiden asked conversationally. "There must be something in their makeover that prevents them from handling salt."

Sam lowered the gun slightly.

"Here's what we're going to do," he said determinedly. "You give me the answers I need, and I won't reveal you're the one who sent word to President Clark about the civilians trying to flee the embargo from Proxima."

Aiden flinched.

"How the hell did you know that?" he demanded. "The only other person who knew that was killed when Sheridan came to free Proxima."

Sam smirked.

"I heard rumours when I got here that they never caught President Clark's informant on Proxima," he said. "Then you started with your rhetoric. So, I took a guess…which you just validated."

"You can't prove a thing," Aiden challenged him. "No one's going to take you seriously. You're probably wanted by the authorities yourself."

"Actually," Sam said, digging through his pocket and taking out a small green jewel, "Right now I have credibility. And trust me, this credibility goes really, really high, right now. Ten thousand people died when those Earth destroyers fired on those passengers ships. That's ten thousand innocent civilians – plenty of children among them. Hell, if you didn't have information I need so badly right now, I'd be tempted to end you myself, then salt and burn you to make sure you're going straight downstairs. And trust me, Aiden, a Hunter in Hell is like a cop in prison. You'd be the centre of attention for…well, for all eternity, actually, because you ain't getting out of there. Purgatory. Answers. Now!"

Aiden took a deep breath. He knew Sam would not leave without the answers he came for. Whatever he wanted with Purgatory, he apparently wanted it enough to resort to just about anything to get it. It did not do to mess with such people.

"What do you want to know?" he asked heavily.

"I need to know how I open a portal to get someone out – someone who shouldn't be there – someone still alive," Sam said. "I've heard there are rumours about portals through Purgatory in many alien cultures. What do you know about that?"

"There are," Aiden replied. "I've managed to track the source of these rumours – though I've never been there, so I don't know if they go any further. There's a small world on the edge of Drazi space – its people are called Enphili. It's quite an insignificant little place, but apparently, there's a group of people there that claim they hold the secrets of portals to other places – portals to Purgatory, from what I could gather, although, of course, they don't call it that. They just call it the place where the dark ones come from."

"Enphili," Sam repeated. "On the edge of Drazi space. All right. Can you tell me anything about them? Other than what you'd like to do to them, I'm a bit short on patience right now."

Aiden scoffed.

"Last I heard, they just joined the mighty Interstellar Alliance," he said disdainfully. "So if you flash that little trinket you've got at them, I'm sure they'll welcome you with open arms. Quite a lot of hero worship wasted on a cult of mixed breeds strolling around in long robes, looking self-important, if you ask me."

"Well, at least it's not wasted on you," Sam retorted. "I'd say thanks for the information, but I know you gave it to me only to save your own skin. I hope I won't have to deal with you again."

"Feeling's mutual," Aiden retorted. "Next time you come here, I'll be the one pointing a weapon at you and it won't be firing rock salt."

The next day, Sam found himself in the Proxima docking area, his eyes wide as he was staring at the White Star. It was the first time he was so close to such a ship. He had to admit it looked impressive. True, he would not give up the _Impala_ – even if he would never admit that bit to Dean – but he still could not help admiring the White Star. He had heard it could manoeuvre impressively quickly. And that was a good thing. Sam wanted something fast.

Sam headed to the White Star. A Ranger was waiting there. He was a human, tall and well-built and probably slightly older that Dean. It did not take long for Sam to recognise that he was quite likely a reliable fighter. He looked ready to take on the world.

"You Sam Winchester?" the man asked in a brusque tone. His accent sounded slightly rich. Sam guessed he was from somewhere on Earth.

"That's me," Sam greeted. "You must be the Captain of White Star 53, right?"

The other nodded.

"Name's Llewellyn. I suppose you need a lift. Where do you want to go?"

"You're not by any chance heading for Drazi space?" Sam asked hopefully. "I've got to be at the Enphili homeworld, and I'd rather get there fast."

"You're in luck," Llewellyn told Sam. "Our mission is to bring supplies to Enphilia. We'll take you all the way."

Sam grinned. He could not believe his luck. Experience was telling him to be careful, though. Even if things were going smoothly at first, that did not mean they would go like that all the way. After all, he was only at the beginning of his journey. There was plenty of time for things to go wrong.

Sam followed Llewellyn inside the White Star. He tried not to gape too much. He could not help thinking, though, that Dean would have been drooling over that piece of technology.

"I'll give you a brief tour and then you'll have to change," Llewellyn informed Sam briskly. "While you are on the White Star, you will be wearing our uniform at all times. We will also see what duties we can assign to you during our voyage. From what I gathered, that's not going to be a problem for you."

Sam shook his head quickly.

"No problem at all," he assured Llewellyn. "I'd like to help in any way that I can. Speaking of which, the guy who was spying for Clark on Proxima 3, his name's Aiden. He runs a small Earth curiosities shop on the outskirts of the Proxima Market."

Even though he had technically promised Aiden not to blow the whistle on him, in exchange for information, Sam was feeling no qualms about it. He was definitely not going to cry over sending someone responsible for so many deaths to justice. Bobby had felt the same way, after all, when he found out Aiden was hunting aliens as well as monsters.

Llewellyn stared at Sam in surprise.

"Do you know, Earth has been searching for this guy for quite a while," he said, "They almost gave up. That's really useful information. Thanks for that. I'll confess I had my doubts, but apparently Enthil'za was right about you."

"In what way was she right?" Sam wanted to know.

"She said you'd prove useful in your own right," Llewellyn replied. "As I said, I had my doubts. Sorry about that."

"No problem," Sam replied easily. "You didn't even know me, after all. What else did Delenn tell you about me?"

"Only that you're looking for your brother," Llewellyn answered. "And that we shouldn't ask you too many questions."

Sam looked curiously at Llewellyn.

"And you weren't in the least bit suspicious?" he prodded.

Llewellyn shrugged his shoulders.

"Suspicious would be going too far," he said. "I was a bit puzzled, though. I couldn't understand why there was all this need to help you. Then I remembered that the Minbari have a saying: _Understanding is not required. Only obedience._ "

"So you decided to just obey?" Sam inquired curiously.

Llewellyn smiled shrewdly.

"Let's put it this way," he began, "Even if I did ask Delenn for more information on you, she still wasn't going to give me any and I'd have still picked you up from Proxima. So I decided to save everyone involved precious time and not press the issue any further. Plus, I can learn quite a lot from you just by observing. Already, I'm learning a lot."

Sam looked sceptical.

"Really?" he baited. "And what exactly are you learning?"

Llewellyn, however, shook his head.

"Oh no, I'm not giving that up just yet," he said. "Since you're on my ship, I've gotta keep you on your toes."

Sam looked amused, but did not try to press any further.

"Fair enough," he accepted.

 **Purgatory**

Dean sat in front of the fire between Benny and Castiel. They usually did not make a fire, not wanting to alert anything to their presence. Even on the nights when it was cold enough to risk it, they rarely managed to light strong enough fires and keep them burning. This was one of the few nights when they were lucky enough to manage it.

"I wonder if Sam is looking for us now," Castiel spoke out of the blue.

Dean shook his head.

"Why should he?" he asked. "For all he knows, we could be dead. Neither of us thought getting accidentally blasted into Purgatory was even possible."

Of course, Sam was bright enough. He might have been able to figure it out, if he was given a prod in the right direction. But Dean had no idea where such a prod could come from. No, Dean believed that he should not hope to be rescued by Sam and instead, be the one rescuing himself.

There was another possibility, though. Dean had no idea how big the explosion that whisked Cas and him to Purgatory had been. He had no idea what had happened afterwards, either. For all Dean knew, Sam could be lost in Purgatory too. Or, he could be dead. Dean always dismissed that particular thought whenever it came to plague him. It would have been an unbearable irony if he managed to get back topside only to find that Sam was not there anymore. Dean knew that if he thought that way, he was going to be sorely tempted to remain where he was and stop bothering to get out.

"Look," was all he told Cas, "We're going to have to rely on ourselves. We're gonna do fine by ourselves, too. After all, once Benny finds the portal, we're out."

Dean glanced at Benny. He noticed the other shift, suddenly uncomfortable.

"Yeah, but some help from outside won't do us harm," Benny admitted.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Dean asked sharply.

Benny sighed heavily.

"I might've not told you _everything_ I knew," he said.

Dean ran a hand through his hair, but showed no other outward sign of frustration.

"You know," he said, "I've been waiting all week for the other shoe to drop with you. Care to tell me what you've left out?"

Cas glanced at him, slightly surprised. Dean could not blame him. His temper was usually more explosive than that. He was too exhausted to make much noise, though. And Benny had saved his life that day from a vampire Drazi – and that bit was enough to give Dean nightmares for a long time. So Dean reckoned that Benny deserved a break, just this once.

"The thing is," Benny began, "There's more than one portal. Only, the portal that I suggested can be opened from the inside. For all the others, it helps to have someone topside open them first. Actually, from what I've gathered, there is one portal in particular that can be opened from the outside and held open only as long as it would take to get someone out. It helps to have something from the person you'll be getting out, too."

"I have never heard of anything of the sort," Castiel declared.

Benny scoffed.

"Yeah, I'm sure you haven't," Benny said. "Because you've been hanging around the wrong crowd."

Cas looked indignant and Benny hastened to clarify:

"I mean humans. Your attention's been on them, right? Well, humans don't know about these portals. Monsters that possess or live around humans don't know about them either."

"Who does then?" Dean wanted to know.

Benny shrugged his shoulders.

"Everyone else, I reckon," he said. "You know these aliens have known each other far longer than they've known us. We're new to the game. They're not gonna reveal their secrets to us, just yet. Quite likely they think that even if they did tell us, we won't believe them."

"Then how do _you_ know?" Dean asked. "You were a human too, before you got chewed on by another vamp. You told me you had a house on Orion 7."

"That I did," benny admitted, "However, before I attached myself to your little group, I hung around some of the less cranky monsters in here. That Drazi from today, for example, I knew him. We used to have a chat now and then."

"He wasn't a very good talker when he had his teeth at my throat," Dean pointed out. "He told you about the portal?"

"No, others like him did," Benny replied. "Nothing clear, though. Only rumours. Legends of their people. Might not even be true."

"Even if it were true," Castiel said, "I highly doubt anyone is going to tell us anything now. Angels and Hunters rarely make friends in Purgatory."

"And even if they told us, we wouldn't be able to get a message to Sam, so he wouldn't know to open the portal," Dean completed. "So we stick to the original plan. We look for the way out we can open ourselves. We're bound to find it at some point."


	4. Chapter 4 Enphili homeworld

**C** **hapter 4 Emphili Homeworld**

 **Hello again. This is the fourth installment of Towards a New Age. Thanks for following and reviewing this story. Read on :)**

 **I had to take some liberties with Enphili names. Hope they sound all right enough.**

 **I don't own anything - except for Llewellyn and a bunch of Enphilis.**

 **White Star 53**

Sam was now travelling abroad White Star 53 – unofficially named the Prydwen, to show Llewellyn's fondness for Arthurian legends. The ship was bound for the Enphili Homeworld, but it still had to make some stops along the way. The journey would last longer than Sam had first hoped. But, at least that meant he had some time to adjust to his new situation.

He felt rather strange wearing the uniform of the Rangers. It was perhaps the thought of the deception he would be practicing – even though he and Dean had pretended to be a lot of things in their jobs. But he had never used a cover quite so big. The uniform felt also slightly uncomfortable, and Sam thought it would take some time for him to actually move quickly in it. The fact that he was sure Dean would laugh himself hoarse, if he had seen him now, did not help matters much.

Sam's next annoying surprise was when he saw the ship's so-called sleeping quarters. As the White Stars had mostly Minabri crews, the ships were mainly of Minbari design. And apparently, Minbari had a problem with normal beds and with lying down to sleep. The "bed" Sam was supposed to sleep in was actually a narrow plank placed in an almost vertical position. Sam took one look at it and realised that someone of his height would never be able to sleep on something like that. He therefore decided the floor was a safer bet, much to the amusement of the rest of the crew.

Captain Llewellyn gave Sam light duties to perform around the ship. After a crash course in how to pilot a Minbari flier, he even sent Sam on a short patrol with a few other Rangers. These were not exactly vital duties and Sam suspected Llewellyn's main reason was to keep Sam busy and not because he really needed an extra hand. Sam actually appreciated that. He took the opportunity to thank Llewellyn near the end of their journey. The thanks actually amused the captain.

"Trust me, I did it for myself more than for you," Llewellyn replied candidly. "See, you were asking me what I was able to see in you. Well, one thing that was obvious was that if I did not keep your mind off your worries, you'd be climbing walls long before we left Proxima space."

Sam huffed, shaking his head, but did not try to deny Llewellyn's accusations. They were right on the mark, after all.

"What can you tell me about the Enphili?" he asked instead. "My source from Proxima would only tell me they're recent additions to the alliance."

"Quite recent," Llewellyn agreed. "They used to be plagued by raiders, until we intervened. I suppose they're grateful to us because of this. They're kind people."

"Will they talk to me?" Sam wanted to know. "Even if I started asking questions that might seem a bit strange?"

"That depends on what you want to ask," Llewellyn pointed out. "I'm actually puzzled that you think your brother might be there."

"He's not," Sam said quickly, "But news of the place he's in might be. I don't know how to explain it to you. You might find it hard to understand – or believe. Well, I hope the Enphili will."

"If they can help you, they will," Llewellyn assured Sam. "As I said, they're good people."

 **Enphili Homeworld**

When White Star 53 finally arrived on the Enphili Homeworld, the Rangers proceeded to unload the supplies they brought to help set the inhabitants back on their feet. Sam helped, of course. It was his way of repaying Llewellyn and also of establishing trust with the Enphili. If he showed himself eager to help them, then perhaps there were fewer chances for them to deny his request. After everything was unloaded, Sam asked to speak to one of the Enphili leaders alone. He was quickly taken to one of the huts where an older Enphili sat.

The Enphili looked curiously at Sam, no doubt wondering why he had asked to speak with him alone. He did not show any hint of surprise, though.

"Welcome, Ranger," he greeted. "I am Sarkat. I have been told you wish to speak to me."

Sam nodded.

"I want to ask a question," he began, "I hope you'll be able to answer it for me."

"I will see what I can do," Sarkat said. "What do you wish to know?"

"I was told you know things," Sam said. "I was told you know about doorways that lead to the land where the dark ones come from."

Sarkat's friendly demeanour changed abruptly. He shook his head. He looked slightly disappointed, as if Sam had somehow broken faith with him by asking that question.

"You ask much of us," he said at length. "And it saddens me, really. There is no doubt that we owe the Rangers and the Alliance our lives, but to make us repay you by giving away one of our greatest secrets – that is not something I expected of you."

Sam raised his hands in a gesture of surrender.

"You're right," he said quickly. "You should not answer my question just because you think you owe me. You actually don't owe me personally, anyway. But I still want to know about the doorway. And I hope you will tell me. Because it would help someone who does not deserve to be there. I need your help. And I do not know who else to turn to."

Sarkat sighed wearily.

"How do you know about the dark ones anyway?" he asked. "I would have guessed your kind did not believe in such things."

"Most don't," Sam agreed. "But I do. I have seen many of the dark ones. I used to hunt them."

Sarkat raised his eyebrows.

"Used to?" he repeated. "You don't hunt them anymore?"

Sam shook his head.

"Not since my brother disappeared," he replied.

His eyes met Sarkat's and he held his gaze. He had to make the Enphili understand how badly he needed the information. He had to convince him somehow that giving up a long guarded secret was the right thing to do. Sarkat lowered his gaze, suddenly uncomfortable, as if he could guess what Sam was trying to do.

"The secret is not mine to reveal," he said at length. "But I will speak with the Guardians of our temples. They will decide if they can give you the answers you need. Do not get your hopes up. They are unlikely to grant such a bold request – especially from an outsider."

Sam sighed heavily. It was not what he had been looking for, but it would have to do. For now.

"All I ask is that you try to speak to them," he said. "And please tell them they should at least see me before they make any decisions."

With that, Sam turned around to leave. He was troubled. If Sarkat was right, and the Guardian of the temple might refuse to see him, then Sam would find himself at a dead end. He did not know what other leads he could pursue. Getting the Enphili to tell him about the portals was his only hope.

Sam knew, though, that there were other means of getting information from someone than simply asking them for it. He knew he would stop at nothing to have the Enphili tell him what he needed to know. He was very aware just how far he would go when Dean's life and wellbeing were at stake.

Sam sat on a boulder, his head in his hands. He knew Sarkat had gone to speak to the Guardians. He was probably there that very moment. They were probably deciding whether to tell Sam the secret of the portals right then.

Would they finally agree to tell Sam everything? And what was going to happen if they did not? Already, Sam had some plans in his mind on how to force the Enphili to change their mind. None were going to be easy, nor particularly pleasant. And the fact that he would be doing all that as a Ranger made it even more difficult to Sam. Still, if forcing the Enphili was the only way, he would have to do it. He would most likely lose the Rangers' complete support and be on his own afterwards.

Footsteps sounded somewhere behind him. Sam tensed and turned his head in time to see Llewellyn sit down next to him. He was taken aback that someone could sneak on him like that. He was usually more on guard.

"You looked miles away," Llewellyn told him. "Enphili give you bad news?"

Sam sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face.

"They didn't give me any news yet," he admitted. "They're only deciding whether to answer my questions or not. If they don't…damn, I don't even want to know what I'll do, if they don't."

"I have a few ideas," Llewellyn said, suddenly harsh. "You're easier to read than you think, Sam."

Sam cast Llewellyn an uneasy look.

"What are you talking about?" he demanded.

Llewellyn snorted, not in the mood for games.

"You asked me the first time what I could guess about you," he began, "Well, one look at you was enough to tell me you were desperate – desperate to accomplish whatever task you had in mind, no matter the consequences. Now, if those consequences were only to yourself, that would've been only your business. But you're wearing our uniform, Sam. You're pretending to be one of us. Don't you think this means you owe us a little? Don't you think about how abusing your power would reflect on us?"

"My brother…" Sam began, but Llewellyn interrupted him swiftly.

"Don't try that defence. Admittedly, I've never had a brother, so how can I know what you're feeling? But if you do something rash here, you'll jeopardise the Rangers and the Alliance. This is bigger than you or your brother, Sam. It's bigger than all of us."

Sam sighed heavily, looking suddenly exhausted.

"If you knew how many times Dean and I have been told this," he said, "The things we had to give up for stuff that was supposedly "bigger than all of us"…I don't know if I can follow this line. Not this time. This time, I'm going to rescue my brother."

"And I'm not saying you shouldn't," Llewellyn assured him. "All I'm saying is be careful. You don't have to break the galaxy in your attempts."

Sam did not say anything in response to that. He remembered what several of the alien representatives had said about him and Dean when they came to Babylon 5 the first time – that word was the Winchesters would one day break the world. Llewellyn could not know that. He could not know he was actually talking to the one who- more or less by accident, admittedly – had once freed the Devil himself and started the Apocalypse.

Llewellyn was not even expecting any answers from Sam.

"Look," he went on. "Delenn and Sheridan, they worked long and hard to set up this alliance. They would not see it jeopardised – for any reasons. If Delenn agreed to help you like this, that means she trusted you. But that's the way she is: she sees the good in people first. She does not focus on their dark sides. Think about this, before you betray her trust, Sam. For one thing, it would reflect poorly on the brother you're trying so hard to save."

Llewellyn got up and left without a word. He did not look back to see Sam's reaction to his advice. Sam watched him go, his face impassive. He knew that Llewellyn was right. He also knew that if he had to resort to darkness to save Dean, he would do so gladly.

Some hours later, Sarkat sought Sam out. The Emphili looked tired. He had probably spent most of his day arguing with the Guardians.

"They will see you tomorrow morning," Sarkat announced woodenly. "I will take you to our temple then. They have not made any decisions yet, but they will see you."

Sam let go of the tension he had been feeling all day. Apparently, he would not be breaking anyone's trust – at least, not yet.


	5. Chapter 5 The map

**C** **hapter 5 The map**

 **New chapter. Man, this is really fun to write :). Enjoy.**

 **As usual, anything that you recognise does not belong to me.**

 **Purgatory**

Dean was the first to go to sleep that night. He left Cas keeping watch and Benny promised he would follow. He'd only wake Dean close to the morning, unless something happened before that, of course. This being Purgatory, they hardly had many opportunities of sleeping through the night undisturbed by some monster stumbling over them.

When Dean opened his eyes again, he found out that the familiar scenery had disappeared. He was somewhere else. He was standing in the empty control room of some ship, only it could not have been an Earth ship. The displays were unlike anything Dean had seen before, and he knew a thing or two about ships. He had, after all, spent the year he had been living with Lisa and Ben working in a shipyard on Earth.

This had to be a dream. Dean was sure of that. Wherever he was, it could not have been Purgatory. Purgatory was dark and grey without any colours whatsoever. This place was different, bright and somewhat comforting. Even as a dream, it was strange. Dean had dreamed many times since coming to Purgatory, but none of his dreams had been in any way comforting.

Dean got closer to the displays. He noticed the ship was orbiting a planet. It was not any he recognised, though. He was sure he had never been there before. If the place even existed, outside of his overtired imagination.

The sound of footsteps behind him had him tense briefly, before he realise he could actually recognise them. He knew that walk, he was quite familiar with it. And it made him think of safety, not danger.

"Dean?"

The uncertain voice had him smile slightly. He turned around, taking in the sight of his younger brother. Sam looked slightly different than Dean remembered him. He seemed more anxious than usual. He was also wearing the most ridiculous clothes.

"Good to see you, Sammy," Dean greeted. "Too bad you're not real, but I suppose I should take what I can get, right?"

Sam tilted his head. He did not look surprised to see Dean there. He did, however, seem faintly amused by Dean's words.

"Not real, am I?" he inquired smirking. "Dude, you're in _my_ dream. Which actually makes you a figment of my imagination, right now. The least you could do is not argue with me."

Dean snorted.

"You've always been too stubborn for your own good," he declared. "Even when you're not real. Let's get this straight. I'm dreaming and you're….well, I've got no idea where you are, but you sure as hell ain't here."

"I'm here," Sam contradicted him. "You're in Purgatory."

"Course I'm in Purgatory," Dean agreed. "That still doesn't make you real."

Sam sighed. For all his show of exasperation, he was enjoying the argument, though. It was like having his brother back. He almost did not want to wake up.

"Look, I can prove to you that I'm the real one and not you," he said. "You wouldn't dream about this place. You've never been in a ship like this before, have you?"

"Oh, and you have?"

"Actually, I'm on one right now," Sam pointed out.

Dean whistled, impressed.

"Moving up in the world, aren't you, Sammy?" he congratulated. "Of course, if this was actually real, I might sleep easily, knowing I don't have to worry about how you're handling things with me over here."

Sam looked hopeful for a minute, but then he snorted and shook his head.

"See, that's proof right there you're not actually you," he said sadly. "If you were here you'd have cut all your fingers first before admitting you worry about me. You'd have thought it too girly"

Dean had to admit that much was true. And if he had actually believed Sam was truly there, he would not have said anything. But he thought that there was no harm in acknowledging his worry to the Sam of his imagination.

"Never mind that, though," Sam said quickly. "I don't want to waste what little time I have arguing with you about which of us is real."

"What else did you have in mind, then?" Dean asked curiously.

Sam looked Dean in the eye. Dean noticed then the steely determination in his brother's face. He had seen it before, plenty of times. He remembered it was there during the year he had made his deal and Sam was trying to save him. It was a look that worried Dean. It told him that his brother was about to abandon all reason and self-preservation in order to accomplish something. And that never sat well with Dean.

"I'm gonna get you out of here, Dean," Sam vowed.

Dean frowned.

"How?" he asked, almost against his will.

"It's just going to take a while," Sam went on, ignoring Dean's question. "I don't know how long. Just…just hang on for a while longer, Dean. Please?"

Dean did not know how to react to that at first. He opened his mouth to say something when he noticed that his brother's figure seemed to waver before his eyes. He knew that meant he was going to wake up soon. He did not want to, though. He wanted to keep that place with him for a while longer.

"Wait!" he began. "Don't go yet. Sam? Sam!"

Dean snapped awake to find himself back in the greyness of Purgatory. It was still night. Castiel was leaning over him as if trying to wake him up.

"You were dreaming," Castiel declared.

Dean gave the Angel an irritated look. He was irrationally angry that Cas had woken him. For the first time since arriving in Purgatory, he was actually having a good dream. He felt it was unfair that he had been wrenched out of it so soon.

"You were calling Sam's name," Cas continued.

"Loud enough to broadcast our location to anyone interested," Benny's voice sounded somewhere in the darkness. "Sorry, brother. We had to wake you."

Dean did not answer. He still felt slightly disorientated. The lack of colour around him seemed more glaringly obvious now after the image of the ship.

"What were you dreaming about?" Castiel pressed on.

Dean got up without a word. He did not feel like sharing the short conversation he had with his brother on the strange ship with Cas and Benny.

"You should both get some sleep," he said instead. "I'll keep watch."

"You sure?" Benny asked. "You look kinda tired."

"Don't worry about it," Dean replied. "I got all the sleep I needed."

The two did not argue any further, for which Dean was grateful. He settled down on watch. He could not stop thinking about what Sam had said to him. Was his brother really looking for him or was that only wishful thinking?

 **White Star 53, above Enphili Homeworld**

Sam got up early before dawn and could not go to sleep afterwards. He had dreamt of Dean that night. That in itself was nothing unusual. Sam often used to dream of Dean since the explosion. But his dreams usually were of Dean in Purgatory, or, at least, Sam's idea of what Purgatory could look like, a dark place resembling the Cage. Most of the times Dean was in danger or dying and there was nothing Sam could do but watch. This dream had been different, though. And it puzzled Sam. He was also annoyed by the fact that, instead of taking advantage of some time spent with his brother, even in a dream, the two had insisted on arguing on which of them was actually real. But Sam supposed he should not really be surprised. He and Dean got into such ridiculous arguments all the time.

Presently, Sam got ready to go down to the planet to meet the Guardians. He saw no sign of Llewellyn along the way. Sam wondered if the Captain was deliberately avoiding him due to yesterday's talk.

Sarkat met Sam in front of his hut. He led Sam towards some caves and then deeper still into dark tunnels. Sam noticed that the tunnels no longer looked natural. They had strange carvings on them. They looked old and Sam suspected they had been made by race more advanced than the Enphili, perhaps even before their appearance.

In the end Sam and Sarkat arrived at what looked like the great hall of an underground temple. It was almost completely dark except for a few lamps glowing here and there. Their flames made strange shadow patterns on the walls. Sarkat stopped on the threshold.

"I am not to go any further," he said. "You may walk in, though. Someone will see you soon. I hope you know how to find your way back?"

"I think so," Sam said uncertainly. "But…"

"I have to go," Sarkat interrupted. "Good luck!"

Sarkat turned away swiftly, after that. Sam shook his head, puzzled. Sarkat seemed frightened. He wondered what that place really was and what it meant to the Enphili. Supposedly, it was where the Guardians Sarkat had talked about lived. But what exactly were they guarding? Was it only knowledge about Purgatory? Or was there something else?

Sam stepped over the threshold. He stood still for a few minutes, allowing his eyes to adjust to the semi-darkness. He could not see too well. Certainly, he could make out little of the furthest corners of the hall where the light of the lamps did not reach. But he still had his Hunter's instinct. And that instinct was telling him he was not alone.

"I'm here," Sam announced to the room at large. "Sarkat said you were going to see me. Well, let's talk then."

Sam stood for a while in silence. No one answered his initial greeting. Sam wondered if this was not some kind of intimidation. He was surprised by it, though. Until then, he had not thought the Enphili were capable of practicing such tactics.

"Look," Sam tried again, "You know by now I need your help and I'm sure you know why, too. So, if you want to help me, now's the time to say so."

Something shifted in the darkest corner of the room. Another lamp was lit and a small figure headed towards Sam. It was a female Enphili and she looked much younger than Sarkat. Sam looked at her rather taken aback. She did not look like someone guarding a great secret.

"You…you are one of the Guardians?" Sam asked hesitantly.

The Enphili nodded.

"I am Mathka," she said. "And you are the one who wants to know one of our greatest secrets. It is a most unusual request, that which you made. Under any other circumstances, we would not think twice about denying you. But Sarkat tells us you used to hunt dark ones."

Sam nodded eagerly at that.

"I did," he agreed. "I sent a lot of them away for good. And it's not only me. There are others of my kind who hunt them, as well. And if you help me now, I promise I'll help you in return. I can give you the means to contact these Hunters, whenever dark ones come to bother you."

Mathka did not answer right away. She looked at Sam curiously. She then turned around and motioned Sam to follow her deeper into the hall. Sam did so, feeling slightly uneasy.

"Some time ago," Mathka began, "We felt the walls of this temple shake. We heard strange voices from beneath the earth. We knew that could mean only one thing. One of the doorways to the land of the dark ones had been opened and many of them had been set loose. It happened far away, in one of the lands beyond the stars, but it still alarmed us. For many days we stood waiting for the end of the world. Do you know what I am talking about?"

Sam nodded slowly. Mathka had to be referring to the time the door to Purgatory had been opened and the Leviathans had been set loose. That was back on Earth and he could not understand how the Enphili could have felt it so far away.

"You were there," Mathka discovered.

"I was," Sam agreed.

He did not want to add anything else to that. He suddenly remembered vividly how it had felt during those days, with Purgatory's finest roaming the Earth and the wall in his mind broken so that he saw Hell in the most mundane of things. He did not really want to revisit those memories.

Sam noticed that Mathka was inspecting him curiously. He did not like the way she was looking straight through him, as if she could somehow see inside his mind.

"I think you also know who opened that door," Mathka declared.

Sam hesitated. He did not want to mention Castiel. He thought he would have a hard time explaining an Angel to a non-human. Also, he was afraid he would have to confess that Castiel was most likely in Purgatory, too and that Sam intended to get him out of there, if that was so. He did not think Mathka would be too appreciative to find out the person responsible for freeing so many dark ones would be set loose, if Sam had his way.

Fortunately, Mathka did not appear to want any answer from Sam. She led Sam further into the hall to a small wooden table. There was a large piece of paper covering it. Bending over it, Sam noticed that it was covered in strange markings. From what he could see in the dim light, it looked like a star-chart of some kind. Only he did not recognise any of the planets. Some of them also had strange markings next to them. Below the chart there were several written lines. The language was unknown to Sam.

"What is this?" Sam asked. "What does it say?"

"This is the secret you asked for," Murna told him. "According to legend, these are the worlds that have doorways to the land of the dark ones."

Sam bent over to have a closer look. If that was supposed to be a representation of the galaxy, it was the most haphazard one he had seen.

"I can't read it," Sam admitted. "Can you tell me what it means?"

"We can't read the writings, either," Mathka said much to Sam's dismay. "We only know what the signs on the map mean. This one, for example," she added, pointing to a strange spiral drawn next to one of the planets, "This is the most dangerous doorway to the land of the dark ones. Only one of them exists in the galaxy, and it must not be open. Terrible things will happen, if someone opens it. We believe that is the one that was open some years ago."

Sam looked at that section of the map carefully. If Mathka was right, then that was Earth. It was a start. Not a big one, though. Not unless there was another portal on Earth that was safe to open. He noticed that next to the spiral there were some straight lines.

"What is this?" he asked pointing to them. "Another portal?"

"Yes," Mathka agreed. "But this one can be opened only from the inside."

It was useless to Sam, then. Based on that, he could eliminate other portals as well. There were plenty of other planets which apparently had portals that could only open from inside Purgatory.

"Is your homeworld on this map?" Sam asked, trying to get another reference point that would make it easier for him to decipher the map.

Mathka pointed to a small dot at the far end of the map. It was not exactly in the location Sam would have expected it to be relative to Earth's position, but it would have to do. He noticed there was a sign next to it as well. Something that looked like an exclamation point. His heart began beating wildly.

"Mathka," he asked, not daring to hope. "Is there a doorway to Purgatory…to the land of the dark ones here? On this planet?"

"There was," Mathka replied. "Not anymore. The Guardians shut it forever. No one can open it now."

Sam felt his newly-found hope sinking. For one wild moment, he truly believed he would be able to get Dean out that very day. But the Enphili had locked their portal, somehow. It was a wise move. But it did not help Sam any.

Sam noticed there were other sings like the one next to the Enphili homeworld all over the map. Other worlds had locked their portals, too. They had to be eliminated, then, as they were not going to help Sam.

"Is there any portal that I can actually open from outside?" Sam asked.

Mathka nodded. She pointed to a planet that had some vertical lines next to it.

"We believe these lines show doorways that can be open from the outside," she informed Sam. "We also think they are safe to open. Only the person you want to get out will be able to use the doorway – and whoever is with him. But you are going to need something of his."

"No problem," Sam said quickly.

He had plenty of Dean's things, after all. Until then, he could not bear even looking at them. Now, however, they were going to help him get his brother back.

If he could find the doorways, of course. He could see a couple of vertical lines on the map. But he could not know for sure where they were. Not until he found someone to decipher the map for him.

"Uh…" Sam began uncertainly, thinking that he might be pushing his luck with this. "I don't suppose I could borrow this? For a little while?"

"It is yours now," Mathka told him calmly.

Sam gaped at her. This was a complete one-eighty from the day before, when Sarkat had warned him that the Guardians were highly unlikely to share their secrets with a stranger.

"Are you sure you wanna do this?" Sam asked hesitantly.

Mathka shook her head, smiling.

"We Guardians have many secrets in our keeping," she told Sam. "This map is only one of them. And we were told to keep it only until the time is right. Then we were to give it away. To one who knew the dark ones. One who had seen death and had passed through darkness and fire and came back alive. I really do believe that is you. I see it plainly on your face."

Sam lowered his eyes. He did not know how much Mathka had guessed about him. But the idea made him uncomfortable. He suddenly wanted to be anywhere but there.

"Well," he said, taking the map. "Thanks very much for this. I'll…I'll be heading back now."

He made to leave, but Mathka reached out and put a hand on his arm.

"That map contains many dangerous secrets," she reminded Sam. "It would not do to fall into the wrong hands."

"It won't," Sam reassured her. "After I'm done with it, I'll burn it. I promise."

Sam was negotiating his way through the dark tunnels that led from the temple. Sarkat had not waited for him, but that did not matter. He could find his way back alone. He felt rather pleased with himself. He had the means to rescue Dean.

Of course, there was the fact that he could not read the map. But Sam tried not to think too much about that. At least he had it with him. There had to be someone in the entire Interstellar Alliance that could read the thing.

Sam was just turning a corner when he was suddenly keenly aware of someone behind him. He tensed, ready for a fight, when a hand landed reassuringly on his shoulder.

"Don't deck me, it's only me."

Sam drew a deep breath to calm himself.

"Llewellyn," he said. "How did you get so close to me without me noticing?"

Llewellyn chuckled.

"I'm a Ranger, remember?" he pointed out. "We have been working so long in the shadowy places that we learn to be as silent as the stones around us."

Sam snorted.

"You sound like you're trying to quote _Lord of the Rings_ ," he commented.

Llewellyn's face took a mock-affronted expression.

"You know," he said, "All the other races are impressed by us. The humans, however, they go out of their way to make us feel ridiculous."

"Well, I'd lose the dark cloak, if I were you," Sam advised. "It might have something to do with your credibility, plus it's damned uncomfortable." He paused, then added in a more serious tone: "I take it you were here to watch me if I decided to do something you weren't going to like."

"I told you, Sam," Llewellyn pointed out. "I couldn't let you jeopardise all that we have built just because you're desperate. I was going to stop you, if you crossed any lines. Luckily, I didn't have to."

They did not talk much, after that, as they walked through the dark tunnels, eager to be back in the open and head towards the ship.

 **White Star 53**

Llewellyn and his crew were going to stay two more days on the Enphili Homeworld, then they would head out. Sam had no idea where he was going to go from there. The map told him nothing. He had looked at it from all directions, but he still could not read it. He showed the writing to the Minbari from the White Star crew, but he only received blank looks. None of them recognised the language. He borrowed a universal translator and typed the writing he saw on the map. The translator came up empty.

It was now the night before the departure of the White Star and Sam still had no idea where he was supposed to go next. He was sitting in the sleeping quarters, his eyes fixed on the map. He had stared at it for so long that he knew it with his eyes closed. Too bad that did not help him much.

Llewellyn walked into the sleeping quarters. He did not look surprised to find Sam there.

"The crew seem to think you've taken up some form of meditation," he remarked. "They say you've barely moved from there for two days and have hardly looked away from the thing. They say you haven't really been sleeping, either."

Sam shrugged his shoulders.

"I'll sleep when I'm able to read this thing," he declared, without looking away from the map.

"And how are you supposed to do that?" Llewellyn wanted to know. "Is this the part where, if you stare long enough at it, you'll have a revelation that will show you all the secrets of the universe?"

"You've been spending too much time among Minbari, Captain," Sam deadpanned.

Llewellyn chuckled, then went to sit next to Sam. He pointed to the map.

"Can I at least have a look?" he asked. "You showed it to the crew after all."

"Well, I thought, since they were Minbari and knew more stuff, they might have come across this language before," Sam said. "Apparently they didn't."

He doubted that Llewellyn knew more about the writing than the Enphili or than his Minbari crew. He still handed him the map, though. Llewelyn took it and glanced at it. He frowned. Sam caught his look.

"Don't tell me you can read it," he said.

Llewellyn handed Sam the map back and shook his head.

"I can't read it," he said. "But I think I've seen it before. And I might know someone who could tell you what it's all about."

Sam gaped at Llewellyn. He could hardly believe his luck.

"It was some years ago," Llewellyn told Sam, "The same writing was discovered on a small planet by a bunch of Martian archaeologists. They studied it. They managed to decipher some of it. But the things these writings spoke about did not really interest the folk back on Earth. They were full of superstitions and talks about demons and such. EarthGov decided it was not worth their time. So they cut back on the funding for the project, preferring to give the money to the newly formed Interplanetary Expeditions who were, after all, looking for the serious stuff that could help Earth advance.

"The writings are now in the Interplanetary History Museum on Mars. The curator of the museum is also one of those who studied them extensively, even after EarthDome pulled the plug on their discovery. She might be able to tell you how to read that map."

Sam looked from the map to Llewellyn, frowning slightly.

"Will she, though?" he could not help asking. "I mean, why would she reveal her life's work to a complete stranger?"

Llewellyn smiled slightly.

"She will, if you mention I sent you," he assured Sam. "She's my mother."

If anything, Sam looked even more suspicious.

"And you're sending me to her?" he asked sceptically. "After all you seem to know about me? Knowing how desperate I am to get my answers?"

"If my mother does not give you those answers, it's because she won't know them, not because she won't want to," Llewellyn pointed out. "She's quite safe from you. Besides," he added, getting up, "Despite how desperate you are, you still kept yourself in check with the Enphili. I think that deserves a reward. Also, Delenn told me to help you in any way that I can."

"Thank you," Sam said earnestly.

"Unfortunately, we're going in the wrong direction for Mars," Llewellyn reminded Sam. "As you know, we're bound for the Drazi homeworld."

Sam waved this aside.

"Just get me on a more travelled colony," he said. "I'll take a passenger liner from there."

Llewellyn nodded. He patted Sam's shoulder and left. Sam remained where he was. He was bound for Mars, then. He would probably get some answers there, but he doubted he would find the portal on Mars, too. He was sure that if such portals had been on human colonies, Hunters would have found out about them beforehand. Sam wondered how much longer he would have to travel until he finally opened the doorway. And how much longer could Dean last in Purgatory, anyway?


	6. Chapter 6 Familiar places

**Ch** **apter 6 Familiar places**

 **Meant to have this up earlier this week. Oh well, here it is, finally. I hope you'll enjoy this chapter and the appearance of a familiar face :)**

 **Thanks for your feedback. As you can see, I haven't made it easier for either of the boys (and I don't plan to do so for quite a while :) ).**

 **I don't own Babylon 5 or Supernatural**

 **Mars Spaceport**

Some days later, Sam set foot on Mars. He stood for a second, taking in the sites before him, surprised to find them as familiar as ever. He had expected things to be different.

Sam and Dean had both been born on Earth. After their mother's murder, their father began his hunting career, travelling all over the Galaxy and taking his two young sons with him. Dean might have still remembered his first four year on Earth, but Sam did not. To Sam, Earth was just another planet, even though he had travelled to almost every corner of it and even though his most important struggles – the fight with Lucifer, the averted Apocalypse, the struggle against the Leviathans – had taken place there. Sam still could not really call Earth home.

Mars was different, though. Mars was the place where Bobby Singer had lived. Bobby had been born on Mars. In his early hunting career, he too had travelled quite a lot. He had been to Earth a fair amount of times. Like most Mars-born, he had a rather scathing opinion of Earthers and often used to claim Earth was like one of those annoyingly clingy parents who did not know they had to back off when their children grew up and wanted to be independent. He loved Mars, and had unconsciously instilled the same love in Sam and Dean. For many years, the red planet with all its dangers and its terrors had been the closest thing Sam and Dean could ever get to a home. They always kept coming back to it.

Sam had not been on Mars for a long time, though. In fact, he and Dean had avoided the place since they lost Bobby. Part of it was for practical reasons. With tensions growing between Earth and Mars, the planet was not exactly a safe place to be. But for the most, it was only the fact that the two Winchesters did not want to see a Mars without Bobby Singer. They thought that somehow Bobby's absence would take away even the memories of their only home.

Sam discovered now that the memories were not gone. In fact, the feeling of coming home was still there. And everything he was seeing reminded him keenly of Bobby. It felt almost painful.

There was something that had changed, though. The atmosphere seemed less tense. The people looked calmer. That was to be expected, of course. Even though the planet looked unchanged, something major had happened since Sam had last been there. Mars was no longer a colony of Earth.

Sam thought back to his last meeting with Bobby during the Day of the Dead. In his excitement to find out Dean was not dead and his subsequent worry to discover his brother was most likely trapped in Purgatory, Sam had not focused too much on Bobby. Certainly, he had neglected to brief Bobby on one very important event. Mars was now independent. Sam regretted now that he had forgotten to mention that. Bobby would have loved to hear the news. He had waited all his life for it to happen.

Sam squared his shoulders. There was no point in him standing still on the airstrip like that. It was getting late. He had to find a place to stay. Tomorrow first thing, he would visit the museum and ask to speak to the curator. He hoped she would be able to help him.

 **Red Planet Hotel**

The entrance lobby to the Red Planet Hotel was packed with rowdy tourists, disgruntled Earth businessmen and the odd alien diplomat. It reminded Sam a little of Babylon 5. It was not the type of place Sam usually stayed in – he and his brother preferred the smaller motels as they were cheap and disreputable enough not to ask too many questions of their visitors. But the hotel was close to the museum. Sam thought it would be practical to stay there.

Sam noticed the people casting him odd looks. There was nothing hostile in them – not like the looks he usually got when people suspected there was something nefarious about him. They seemed merely curious. It took a while for Sam to realise why and when he did, he felt amused. Of course. He was still wearing the Ranger uniform.

Sam supposed he could have changed it. After all, it was common knowledge the Rangers were held in awe more by the alien races than by the humans. But he had just gotten used to wearing the uniform and he was just starting to feel comfortable in it. Also, even though humans did not have the same respect for Rangers the other members if the Interstellar Alliance had, they still knew not too ask to many questions of them.

As Sam was waiting in the lobby to get the receptionist's attention, he noticed a couple of police officers coming from the hotel restaurant. Something must have happened there. Sam squared his shoulders, feeling slightly nervous, even though he knew he should not be. But there had been so many times when the presence of police had signified trouble for him that he supposed he was entitled to be a little on edge.

But all of Sam's nervousness faded when he spotted a familiar figure among the other officers. It was a woman with short brown hair and a determined look. She moved away from the other officers, telling them something in parting. She walked towards Sam. She looked distracted, and she probably wouldn't have seen him if Sam hadn't called out to her.

"Jody Mills," he called. "Jody?"

The woman turned around at the sound of her name, her eyes searching the motel lobby. She spotted Sam quickly. She raised her eyebrows at the sight of him.

"Well, I'll be damned!" she exclaimed. "Sam Winchester in a Ranger suit. That's not something you see every day."

Sam laughed, slightly self-conscious.

"This is a long story," he said.

"I bet," Jody agreed. "I'd like to hear all about it. Where's your shadow, by the way? Usually when one of you boys is around, the other's not far behind."

Jody noticed Sam's face grow grave and trepidation filled her.

"Sam?" she asked cautiously. "Sam, where is Dean? Has something happened?"

Sam sighed, looking suddenly beyond exhausted.

"Dean's…Dean's lost," he admitted at length. "And I'm trying to find him. It's taking quite long, though."

Jody looked concerned.

"Now I really have to hear what you boys have been up to," she said. "Are you staying here?"

"Actually," Sam pointed to the receptionist, who was now free, "I was just about to get a room…"

"Don't," Jody said firmly. "I'm putting you up tonight. You can fill me in over dinner."

Sam shook his head at that.

"No, really, I can't," he began, "I don't want to be an inconvenience."

"Hey!" Jody interrupted him indignantly. "You're coming with me willingly, or I'm dragging you out kicking and screaming. Now you look like you haven't seen solid ground in a while. You need a warm dinner and a decent place to sleep. You know what Dean's gonna say when you find him and he sees you haven't been taking care of yourself. Now, do I have to drag you out?"

Sam looked rather sheepish. He noticed a few of the hotel guests staring at them curiously. Seeing as Jody had her best "scolding mother" expression on and was not afraid at all to be vocal, Sam could only imagine what the scene might have looked like to them.

"So," Jody asked again. "Which will it be, Mister?"

Sam raised his hands in surrender.

"All right," he said quickly. "Whatever you say, ma'am."

Jody nodded approvingly and led the way out of the lobby.

 **Jody Mill** **s' place**

Jody led Sam to her vehicle and drove to her place. She did not speak much during the drive. Sam, meanwhile, was looking out the window rather confused. He realised he did not remember going in that direction before.

"Wait," he said, "This isn't the way to where you live."

Jody chuckled.

"It is now," she declared. "When my boss was kind enough to decide that, seeing as Mars is now independent, he's no longer needed here and he can go back to Earth were he came from in the first place, I inherited his place – and his job."

Sam turned away from the window and looked at Jody impressed.

"Really?" he asked. "You've been promoted. Congratulations. I didn't know."

Jody snorted at that.

"Well, you would have, if you bothered to check in once in a while," she pointed out.

Sam did not answer. He had not checked in with anyone since the explosion. He had simply felt incapable of doing so. Garth had tried calling him a couple of times, mostly to ask if he was interested in certain cases, until Sam had firmly told him to pretend he did not exist and stop calling. So far, Garth had kept his promise. He had probably spread the word about it, too, because no one else in the hunting community had tried to reach Sam.

It did not take long for Jody to get to her house. She and Sam had dinner first, as she declared that Sam looked like he had not eaten proper food in a while. After dinner, she and Sam opened a bottle of Whiskey – in memory of Bobby, as Jody said. Sam filled her in on all that had happened since the explosion. Jody listening without saying anything, letting Sam tell his story. She looked impressed by all that Sam was telling her.

"And you think you can actually get Dean out of Purgatory?" she asked, once Sam was done.

"I have to," Sam replied.

"Is there anything I can do?" Jody offered.

But Sam shook his head.

"You're already doing it," he pointed out. "You've given me a place to stay and – well, you've listened. The people I've been dealing with so far, they're fairly willing to help, I'll give them that. But they don't really know Dean and me. Not like you. You know most of what we've been through. I didn't realise until now how much I needed to talk to someone who knew us."

Jody smiled sadly, looking into her whiskey glass.

"So," she said, "You saw Bobby at this Day of the Dead festival. How was he?"

Sam shrugged his shoulders. Once again, he regretted that he had not really paid much attention to Bobby that night. He had only used him as a sounding board. Not that Booby had seemed to mind. He had probably preferred it that way.

"Well, you know him," he told Jody at last. "He was the same old Bobby. He never did like to talk about himself much. Used to say it made him feel ridiculous."

Jody chuckled briefly. She then grew grave again.

"I miss him, you know," she confessed to Sam. "I was thinking about him the other day – about how much he would have liked Mars now that it's changing."

Sam nodded, because he had been thinking the same thing, ever since he got on Mars. He raised his glass.

"To Bobby," he toasted. "And to Mars, too, I guess."

Jody smiled and echoed the toast.

"Bobby," she repeated. "And to Dean. I hope you find him soon."

 **Interplanetary History Museum**

The next morning Jody drove Sam to the museum on her way to work. She left him with strict instructions to wait for her to pick him up that evening. She doubted Sam would be able to do much that day, even if he received the translation quickly. He would most likely have to leave again, and finding a place on a passenger liner – or even finding the nearest White Star that could take him to his next destination – would take some time. Sam agreed reluctantly. He knew Jody was right. But he hated the fact of making Dean spend even a second more than was necessary in Purgatory.

Sam entered the museum and asked to speak to Mrs Lena McDuff, the curator. He was admitted quickly and without a fuss, something that puzzled Sam initially. He walked into the curator's office, a small room – space on Mars was a luxury, after all – cluttered with all kinds of unlabelled artefacts. The desk was covered in a mountain of papers. Sam was slightly taken aback by the disarray – he himself was neat to the point that Dean accused him many times of OCD.

The woman sitting at the desk in that cramped room came as a surprise. She was around 50 and had more the appearance of a businesswoman than that of a former archaeologist. Having heard from Llewellyn how she had struggled for a project that was not going to bring anyone too many gains, Sam had expected to meet some kind of idealist. But Lena McDuff did not look at all like an idealist. On the contrary, she looked like a very pragmatic person.

Sam cleared his voice to get her attention.

"Mrs McDuff?" he began.

Lena raised her head, slightly irritated by the interruption. Her expression changed quickly when she caught sight of Sam. A flash of panic appeared briefly in her eyes.

Sam instantly understood where her mind had taken her. He was still dressed as a Ranger so Lena must have assumed he had news of Llewellyn. And since her son had quite a dangerous job, it was not hard for her to think that the news was surely bad.

"Oh no," Sam said quickly. "Nothing bad has happened, I promise. The last time I saw your son, he was fine. Actually…he sent me to you. He thought you might be able to help me."

Lena relaxed visibly. Wordlessly, she indicated to Sam to sit down in the other chair in front of her. Sam did so. He already had the map in his hands.

"I was given this," he said, handing her the map. "And Llewellyn told me you might know what it means."

Lena took the map. She glanced at it. As soon as she saw what it was, her eyes widened.

"It's supposed to represent the galaxy," Sam went on, "But it's arranged in such a way that I can't read it. I can't read the notes, either. I tried using a translator but…"

Lena was no longer listening to Sam. Her eyes were fixed on the map on the notes beneath it. Her expression was almost greedy.

"Do you know," she began, speaking more to herself than to Sam, "I think I know what this is. All the other writings we found, they referred to this map. We always knew it was out there somewhere, but we never knew where. And of course Earth would not fund us, so we could not really look. But now…now things have changed. And this could be a brilliant find."

Sam cleared his voice.

"Actually," he said, slightly uncomfortable. "I can't give that to you for good. I only want it translated. Then I'll have to destroy it."

Lena frowned.

"Why in the world would you do that?" she demanded.

"Because I promised," Sam said quickly. "Because in the wrong hands, it could do a hell of a lot of harm. Trust me. I know."

Lena hesitated. For a moment, Sam was afraid she would not agree to help him. Then, she shook her head.

"This is all beyond me," she confessed. "But you must have your reasons. Your lot always does. And, after all, if Llewellyn sent you…"

Lena was now rummaging through one of her desk drawers. She was muttering to herself as she did so, almost oblivious of Sam. Sam cleared his throat again. Lena raised her head, taken aback to see Sam still there.

"I'll give you the translation," she said briskly. "I need to check my notes first. I work better alone, though. So take the day off, enjoy our museum and come back this evening."

Lena's tone was firm, leaving no room for arguments. Sam grinned inwardly. At least now he knew where Llewellyn got his no-nonsense way of giving orders. He nodded in parting and left the room, preparing himself for a long day ahead.

 **Several hours later**

The evening could not have come quicker for Sam. He had spent half the day going through every room of the museum. He would have thought the visit more interesting, if he had not been so distracted. If he had Dean with him, he would have been able to enjoy what he was seeing more fully. Of course, if he had Dean him, he would have had to endure an endless string of commentary about doing such a geeky thing as visiting a museum.

After Sam had gone through every exhibit twice, he went to have a quick lunch in the museum cafeteria. It was still early and he knew Lena could not have finished so soon. So he left the museum. He entered a cinema where they were showing a trivid about the early days of the Mars Resistance. Sam was by now so distracted that he did not remember anything of the movie afterwards.

When evening finally came, he returned to the museum and went to the curator's office again. If anything, the room looked even more cluttered, a few papers having managed to land on the floor. Sam could not understand why Lena did not use data-crystals like everyone else. He supposed that was one of her quirks.

Lena's face looked flushed with exertion. She must have been working hard for the translation. She looked pleased with herself, though, so Sam hoped she had good news.

"All done," she told Sam. "I was not able to give you the names of the planets, but I did manage to determine in which sector they are located. I'm sure you can take it from here."

Sam nodded quickly.

"I can handle it," he assured Lena. "What about the notes? What are they?"

"Instructions, apparently," Len replied. "And I also took the liberty of translating something else for you. It's part of something we found years back. It's related to your own text. Most of these are warnings against attempting the instructions on your map. Kind of beware of the consequences and all."

Sam frowned, but did not say anything. It would have been ungrateful to refuse Lena's extra help, especially when she had taken the time to translate all of that for him. He was going to read the warnings, but he knew none of the consequences were going to stop him from trying to get Dean out of Purgatory.

"I can handle it," he repeated. "Thanks, though."

Lena did not look surprised by Sam's vague answer.

"Yeah, thought you'd say something like that," she said. "All I can tell you is – I hope you know what you're doing."

"I do, thanks," Sam assured her, taking her translations and the original map. He left the museum in a hurry to wait for Jody to pick him up. He could hardly contain his excitement. He had instructions on how to open Purgatory and rescue Dean. For the first time in a long time, life was looking good.

He should have known it could not all be as simple as that.

 **A.N: I kept Jody's rank deliberately vague, as I don't think sheriff would have actually worked on Mars. But I did get her promoted, so there's that :)**


	7. Chapter 7 Can't get out

**C** **hapter 7 Can't get out**

 **Hello again! Here's another chapter. For those of you who missed Dean in the previous one, you'll be glad to hear he's playing a more proeminent role in this one. As for Lena keeping a copy of the map for whatever purposes as one review speculated, I admit that hasn't crossed my mind, before. But it would sure as hell make a good idea for a sequel at some point ;)**

 **Babylon 5 is not mine. Supernatural is not mine.**

 **Purgatory**

Dean, Castiel and Benny were at the end of another weary day in Purgatory. They had spent most of the day trying to avoid a group of particularly angry Leviathan. The reason for their anger was Dean, of course. They hated the fact that he had banished them from the comfort of Earth and back into Purgatory. They had wanted to get their revenge in any way possible. Avoiding them had been a pain. Finally fighting them, since there was no other way to escape them was even more so.

The rest of the day, they spent looking for a particular hill. Benny told them that it was marked by a bent tree right on top of it. He said he was pretty sure that was where the portal was.

"This is it," Benny announced, as they stopped in front of the tree. "With luck, we'll be out of this damn place in no time."

"Right," Dean said without too much conviction. "So what do I have to do? Just say the spell and the door will open?"

Benny nodded.

"That's right," he said. "Just say the words and wait for the portal to open. When it does, you'll have two or three minutes to make the other spell and get the two of us under your skin, so we can get out too."

Dean cringed at the last bit.

"Dude, that sounds wrong in so many ways that I don't even want to think about it," he muttered.

He straightened and started reciting the spell in Latin. The spell was long and complicated, but Dean had been saying Latin spells almost since before he had known what Latin was. He remembered the words that Benny had taught him well enough. Or at least he thought he did. Because he had finished saying the spell, but the portal was not opening. Shaking his head irritated Dean began again. But nothing happened this time, either. Baffled, he looked from Benny to Castiel. The two looked as contrite as he felt.

"Must have been my accent," Dean declared. "Cas, would you like to try?"

Castiel huffed.

"I cannot try, Dean," he explained. "The door would not open for me. The door opens only for non-Supernatural beings. Otherwise, anything could get out of here."

"Besides, I somehow doubt the door isn't opening due to bad pronunciation," Benny added.

Dean rounded on him.

"Then why the hell won't it open?" he demanded. "What else does it need?"

Benny shrugged his shoulders.

"Hey, brother, I was sure it would open, remember?" he pointed out. "That's why I said I'd take you here. But perhaps I had my facts all wrong. Perhaps this isn't the right portal. Maybe we should keep looking."

Dean took a deep breath, barely containing his anger. Sure, they could keep looking. They could keep looking blindly for something they were not even sure they would find until they were dead – well, as dead as they could get there. But Dean did not want to go out like this. He needed a strategy.

"Right," he declared briskly. "Change of plans. We're gonna do things a little differently from now on."

"How do you want to do things, Dean?" Castiel wanted to know.

"There are folks here who actually know more about these portals than we do, right?" Dean began. "The alien monsters Benny's been talking about. We should ask them to share with us what they know."

Benny snorted.

"Because they're so keen on sharing with a Hunter," he said.

There was a dangerous light now in Dean's eyes. Castiel was familiar with it and he did not like it. Every time it had been there, Dean was about to do something reckless.

"I never said ask them nicely," he pointed out. "I'm actually going to be a little firm with them."

Benny still looked sceptical.

"They're stuck in Purgatory, brother," he pointed out. "What could you possibly do to them that's worse than that?"

Dean smiled mirthlessly.

"I spent forty years in Hell," he informed Benny. "Trust me when I say I can get really imaginative when it comes to the torture thing."

 **Mars, Jody Mills' place**

Sam sat in the guest room of Jody's house looking at the notes Lena had made for him. His first task was to find out which planets had a portal to Purgatory that could be opened from the outside. Now that Lena had given him the coordinates to them, it was not too hard for him to discover them.

There were six planets with a portal that could be opened from the outside. Or, at least, there had been six when the map had been written. Sam discovered quickly that he had to eliminate one of them. The infamous Z'ha'dum about which Sam had heard so many rumours was no more. Apparently, someone had set off its automatic defence system and the planet had been blown to pieces. If there had been a portal there, it was long gone. After some research, Sam discovered that he would have to eliminate another planet. It had been located in the Dilgar system and had probably been destroyed when its sun went Nova. Biting his lips, Sam crossed it off his list.

There was another planet in the Markab system. From what Sam knew, the Markab jump gate had been blown up – some people said it was Sheridan, and if rumours were true, he seemed to enjoy blowing stuff up as much as Dean did. It would be difficult to get there, then. There was also the fact that the place was deserted after the Markabs were killed by a deadly plague. Ii was risky to go there. With Sam's luck, if he went there, he would probably bring the plague back, only this time mutated and ten times more dangerous and probably wipe out the entire galaxy.

Sam made to cross out the Markab planet. Then, he changed his mind and put a question mark next to it. He would leave it as a last resort.

The fourth planet proved to be in Vorlon space. No one entered Vorlon space. It was closed to humans. Cursing the self-importance of so-called superior races that guarded their knowledge from everyone they felt as inferior, Sam put a question mark next to that planet as well. He was desperate enough. If there was a way to get inside Vorlon space, he would find it.

The next two planets proved to be more hopeful. One was a small colony in Centauri space. The last one was Minbar.

Sam's first thought was to go to Minbar. After all, he would have no trouble finding a White Star that went in that direction. But then he thought of what Delenn would say, if she found out Sam intended to open a door to Monsterland on her Homeworld. No, he told himself. He would try the Centauri colony first. If that did not work, he would go to Minbar.

Sam next started to read the translation of the annotations that had come with the map. He discovered that Lena had written her own comments in an attempt to be more helpful. Sam shook his head, grinning. If he ever saw Llewellyn again, he had to remember to ask him what kind of things his mother liked. After that much help, Lena deserved a gift from Sam.

The annotations contained instructions on how to open the portal. Sam proceeded to read them:

" _Find a place with trees – such doorways are usually to be found in forests. Do not open it when it is fully dark outside. The doorway would be harder to control in the darkness. But do not try it at midday, either. The veil between our world and that of the Dark Ones is thicker in the daylight. Try it at evening. It is the safest time._

" _You will need something from the one you lost. Place it on the ground. It will draw him to you._

" _You will also need your own blood. Spill some drops on the ground next to the object._

" _Next, say the unknown words found in the_ _Doorways Book_ _"_ Here, Lena had written a message of her own: _"We actually found something called the_ _Doorway Book,_ _or, at least, fragments of it. I think I know what the so-called unknown words are. They aren't in any language I've come across, though. Still, I've copied them here exactly as I found them."_

Sam looked over the next lines and discover the spell to open Purgatory was actually in Enochian. He supposed that made sense – although, how the Enphili or whoever it was that had left the map and the instructions even knew about the Enochian language was beyond him. He felt a little uncomfortable having to be in contact with that language again, but that did not matter. He would learn the spell and use it when he got to the portal.

The next part of the notes belonged also to Lena. She had copied what she said were warnings, regarding the spell written underneath the map. " _I don't really understand what you want to do (or why,"_ she wrote, _"But I think you should have these too. Something tells me you don't give a damn about consequences. Still, one can hope, I suppose. Good luck."_

Just as Lena predicted, Sam cast only a cursory glance over the warnings. The one that bothered him the most stated that such doorways could be locked. If they were locked, there was no spell that could open them again. Sam supposed he would have to take the risk. He had four choices, after all. They could not all be locked.

There were other warnings, though. There was the distinct possibility that, once opened, the doorways could not be closed back again. If so, anything could get out through them. Then, there was the idea that the one that opened the doorway to get someone out of there would be required to pay a price. It could be even that he would have to change places with the one lost in Purgatory.

Sam looked away from the notes. Now all that remained was to find transport to the Centauri colony. He hoped there would be a White Star available to take him there.

 **Purgatory**

"Now listen, creep-o, you either tell us everything we need to know, or I and my pals here are gonna be playing the guitar with your guts while you're watching us."

Dean, Castiel and Benny had managed to capture a Brakiri shape-shifter. Following Dean's plan, they started to interrogate him about potential portals out of Purgatory known to aliens and how these could be used to get out. The Shifter clearly knew what the three wanted to know. He did not seem to be too inclined to answer. That is, not until Dean started to work on him.

In truth, Dean was definitely not enjoying himself. He might have been raised a Hunter, with the idea that he had to kill monsters drummed into his head, but he did not enjoy inflicting pain, especially not after Hell and all that had happened there. He would not have tortured anyone with pleasure – well, except someone who had done Sam harm, maybe. But this was necessary. He had to get the Shifter to tell them what he knew, otherwise they were going to be stuck there forever.

"All right!" the Shifter cried. "You'll find it hard to get to a portal that opens from the inside. There aren't any anymore. Something happened when you lot broke Purgatory open and freed the Leviathan. Something to make sure no one who remained behind down here would be able to get topside. So no, you can't get out that way. And you've brought this upon yourself."

"Save the self-righteous preaching," Dean snapped. "What do you mean we can't get out that way? Can we get out another way?"

The Shifter looked like he was thinking of not answering. Dean's eyes flashed dangerously at that, and he decided his best bet was to keep cooperating.

"Purgatory can always be open from the outside," he declared. "And I'm not talking about the portals you Earthers have. Those are amateur stuff. Very unstable. You want to get out a few souls and you take out the oldest creatures of the universe while you're at it," He paused and glanced at Castiel knowingly. "I don't have to tell _you_ that, though."

"If you are so knowledgeable, I suggest you tell us something useful," Castiel advised.

The Shifter scoffed.

"The only reason I'm telling you this is because you three are a menace," he said. "You've been wreaking havoc in this place since you landed here. Frankly, most of us want to see the back of you in any way possible. So, that's why I'm gonna help you."

"That and the knife I have at your throat," Dean pointed out conversationally.

The Shifter ignored Dean's jibe.

"The truth is, something went wrong a while ago with Purgatory," he began. "That was thousands of years ago. Some people said it was because one of the wars of the First Ones. They broke something, made the veil that separates Purgatory from the real world thinner. A lot of people got locked here – real live people, I mean, who shouldn't be here. And, well, they needed a way out. One was that human portal that would have taken you to Earth. But others were made too."

"Others that open from the outside," Benny completed. "Yeah, I've heard about those. But how did those that got lost here know how to contact those topside?"

In response, the Shifter pointed his head to one of the trees near them. At the foot of the tree, there were some small, reddish plants. They were the only speck of colour in Purgatory. Until then, Dean, Castiel and Benny hadn't paid too much attention to them.

"Don't ask me how these got here," the Shifter said. "But apparently, if you chew one, you'll be able to contact those up there. Your consciousness or whatever briefly leaves this place, enough to have a little chat"

"And can we contact a specific person?" Castiel wanted to know.

The Shifter looked at Castiel pointedly.

" _You_ can't contact anyone, fly-boy," he said. "And neither can your vampire pal. These were made for non-supernatural creatures only. _Alien_ non-supernatural creatures. Don't even know what they'd do to humans, or if they even work on them. In answer to your question, though, yes, you can contact a specific person, if you focus hard enough. Not on the person you want to speak to, though. You should focus on something that is bound to be near that person at all times."

Dean, Castiel and Benny exchanged questioning looks. It all sounded too far-fetched for their liking. And the fact that he would actually have to put some unknown plant in his mouth only on the word of a Shifter did not please Dean too much.

"Hey," the Shifter said, drawing their attention back to him. "I've told you all I know. Care to let me go?"

Castiel was about to smite him. Dean, however, was quicker. He lifted his fist and hit the Brakiri over the head, knocking him out.

"I want him still alive in case something goes wrong with what he told us," Dean explained grimly.

"He's gonna bolt when he wakes up, though," Benny pointed out. "How do you think we're going to find him again?"

"Trust me, Benny," Dean told him, "I'm quite motivated when I'm pissed."

Castiel looked at Dean searchingly.

"You are not thinking of actually doing what the Shifter suggested, are you?" he inquired worriedly. "Things could become very unpleasant for you, if he was lying."

Dean looked around him pointedly.

"It can't suck worse than it already does," he pointed out. "If this really is a way to get to Sam, then I have to try it."

He did not tell Castiel and Benny that he might have already gotten to Sam before. The dream he had a few nights before was on his mind. After waking up, he was ready to dismiss it as only a dream. But he had thought better of it, in the next few days. What if he had actually reached Sam already? Well, another attempt at making contact would not hurt. And maybe this time they would not waste it with pointless arguments.

 **Mars, Jody Mills' place**

Sam left the guest room as soon as he discovered where he was to go next. He went to the living room and was pleased to see Jody had not gone to bed.

"Hey, can I use your communication system?" he asked. "I need to make a call."

Jody nodded quickly.

"Sure," she said. "Who are you calling?"

"Babylon 5," Sam answered distractedly, already placing the call.

Jody whistled, shaking her head.

"Well, there goes this month's pay," she muttered resignedly.

Sam managed to place the call. A disembodied voice asked him who he wished to contact.

"I need to talk to Ambassador Delenn," Sam said quickly.

Jody's interest piqued at that. She moved into the doorway to give Sam a little privacy, but did not leave the room completely.

"Please state your name, Sir," the disembodied voice told him patiently.

"It's Sam Winchester, the Ambassador knows me. Uh….it's urgent."

The voice on the other end told him to wait for a while and see if the Ambassador was available to take the call. He should remember, though, that it was early morning on Babylon 5. After a while, Delenn appeared on the screen in front of Sam. She looked as if she had just woken up.

"Uh, I hope I'm not disturbing you, Ambassador," Sam began, rather sheepishly. "It kind of slipped my mind, that there's a time difference between Mars and Babylon 5."

"I am sure you have other things on your mind," Delenn told him tolerantly. "Why are you calling me?"

"I was wondering if there were any White Stars near Mars. I need to go to a small Centauri colony…It's very important."

Delenn sighed heavily.

"I am afraid that is rather problematic, under the circumstances," she said. "There have been a number of attacks on Alliance shipping lines lately and the White Stars are busy with that. I will have to check, but I might have none available…" Here Delenn paused. An idea seemed to have crossed her mind. She looked at Sam questioningly. "Did you say you were going into Centauri Space?"

Sam nodded.

"Yeah," he said. "Some small planet on the border of Centauri space…very close to Drazi space, too."

He saw Delenn look away for a moment, as if she was pondering the wisdom of whatever idea had come to her. When she looked back to Sam, she appeared completely confident.

"I will send a White Star for you tomorrow," she told Sam. "However, once on the planet, there is something I have for you to do. You will receive further instructions when you board."

Sam hesitated. He wondered what Delenn wanted him to do and why she was not giving him any more details on the spot. He supposed it was not something that could be talked about on an unsecure channel. But it made him suspicious. Still, he thought wryly, remembering his past associations, it could hardly be any worse than drinking demon blood and unknowingly freeing the Devil himself.

"Consider it done," he told Delenn. "And thanks for the lift."

The conversation ended. Sam turned to look at Jody. She was still standing in the doorway, leaning against the wall, looking at Sam with her eyebrows raised.

"You think I should have asked for more details before I said yes?" Sam asked, looking at Jody questioningly.

Jody shrugged her shoulders.

"I suppose you're hardly in a position to make demands, since you're using her ships, not to mention pretending to be one of her Rangers in order to get information no one would give you otherwise. Frankly, I'm surprised she agreed to help you."

Sam remembered the things he told Delenn to enlist her help. He was not proud of himself for wht he had to do.

"I told her a few things," he said, looking uncomfortable. "Frankly, I don't really like how I went about it. I went into stuff I had no business mentioning to her."

Jody did not ask for more figured Sam did not want to give them, otherwise he would not have been so vague. Suddenly, she laughed shaking her head.

"Someone just placed a call in my house to the co-founder of the Interstellar Alliance," she remarked. "Never a dull moment with you boys, is there?"

Sam chuckled. He looked knowingly at Jody.

"Come on," he told her. "You can't deny that's part of the appeal with us. You're not the type to enjoy dull moments, after all, are you?"


	8. Chapter 8 Messages from Purgatory

**C** **hapter 8 Messages from Purgatory**

 **Hello again. New chapter. Glad to see you enjoyed the previous one. Hope you'll enjoy this one too :)**

 **Nothing you recognise belongs to me.**

 **Purgatory**

Dean picked a few of the red fruits that had been pointed to him by the shifter. He resolutely ignored the concerned looks Castiel and Benny were giving him. It was no secret that the two thought giving credit to what the Shifter had said was risky. He could have been lying, after all. The thought had crossed Dean's mind a few times, actually. But he told himself the Shifter had been telling the truth about one thing: those in Purgatory wanted Dean out of their lives – and if they could not kill him, then the next best thing was to make sure he got the hell out of that place.

"I still think this is unwise, Dean," Castiel attempted one last time.

"Look, you know we can't get out of here unless we get to Sam," Dean pointed out reasonably. "Now, if you've got a better idea, Cas, put it on the table. I'm all ears."

Castiel frowned at the strange phrasing. He shook his head.

"I am afraid I do not have any ideas at the moment," he said. "And we have no tables here."

Dean snorted.

"Of course we haven't," he muttered. "What was I thinking? Now, I'll take it you both see this is the only plan we have. It sucks, but when doesn't it?"

"So, you're going through with this," Benny deduced.

Dean nodded.

"Yeah, I'll just eat a few and hopefully I'll pop out and see Sammy," he said. "Should be fun."

Benny and Castiel exchanged concerned looks. It was clear that Dean was not going to listen to their arguments.

"You know, brother," Benny said in a last attempt. "The shifter did say he's got no idea if this stuff even _works_ on humans. They were placed here by aliens, after all. For all you know, the only thing they'd give humans is a bad case of indigestion."

"Well, then get out of the line of fire, if you see me turn green," Dean replied carelessly. "And trust me, Benny, if this is a means to get to someone topside, it will send me straight to Sammy."

Benny shrugged his shoulders in a have-it-your-way gesture. Castiel did not say anything. Dean's last point rang true. He could boast to have become something of an expert on the Winchesters – as much as anyone who was not Sam or Dean could be. He knew that if there was a way to get to each other, Sam and Dean would move heaven and earth (and, apparently, Purgatory) to do so.

"Right," Dean said, settling down under one of the trees. "You two'd better stand guard. If something jumps us and I'm out of it, bring me back. I don't care if you have to slap me into next week to do it."

Dean put one of the fruits in his mouth. He grimaced at the bitter taste and almost spit it out. He forced himself to swallow, though.

"Awesome," he said, nearly gagging. "Of course, it could not taste like pie, could it?"

Dean ate the rest of the fruits, one by one. He closed his eyes, trying to think of an object that was always near Sam. It was not hard for him to do so. He thought of their ship, because Dean was sure that wherever the _Impala_ was, Sam had to be too. Even if Sam actually believed Dean was dead, he was too much of a sentimentalist to get rid of the ship – or burn it, as Hunters knew it was the best thing to do with objects dead people had been attached to. He would consider it his last tie to his brother and hold on to it.

Dean tried to visualise the _Impala_ in his mind. It was not difficult for him to do so. He knew every inch of that ship by heart. He had worked on it and rebuilt it many times, after all. That ship was a part of him, almost as much as Sam was. And he could see her, black and elegant, in a class of her own. For some reason, he pictured it in the Babylon 5 Docking Bay. He did not think too much on it, though. He only closed his eyes tighter and told himself that the next time he opened them, he would be in front of the closest person associated with the ship. Taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes…

…and found himself in Ambassador Delenn's quarters.

"What the hell?!" Dean exclaimed involuntarily.

He closed his eyes again, expecting to be with Sam the next time he opened them – or, at least, back in Purgatory. But it did not work. He was still in Delenn's quarters.

"What the hell?" he repeated baffled.

The door to the room opened and Delenn walked in. She was carrying a stack of papers and looked harassed and distracted. She was a few feet into the room before she raised his eyes and noticed Dean. She did a double take, for a moment too stunned by Dean's appearance to actually process it. She could see that he was not really there – he was insubstantial, more like a poorly designed hologram. But she could not understand why he would be there at all, when his brother was searching for him up and down the Galaxy.

"What are you doing here?" she asked frowning.

"Believe me, Ambassador, right now I'd like to know the same thing myself," Dean replied. "I dialled Sam. Must've gotten the wrong number somehow. Unless…uhhh…you've got Sammy hidden somewhere in your bedroom."

"Sam _was_ here," Delenn acknowledged. "But that was some weeks ago, after the Brakiri Day of the Dead. He left to look for you."

Dean's eyes widened. So Sam had been looking for him all along – was still looking for him. Then, trying to talk to him was not even necessary, if Sam already was working on getting him out. That did not explain, though, why Dean had been sent on Babylon 5 when Sam was no longer there.

"Ambassador," Dean began. "This might sound strange, but did Sam leave something behind when he left?"

Delenn nodded.

"Yes," she answered. "He said he could not take his own ship with him, so he left it in my care."

Well, that explained why Dean was there. It did not please Dean, though. There were very few people Dean trusted with the _Impala_ after all.

"You gotta be kidding me," he commented. "He actually left Baby with strangers?"

Delenn looked at him incomprehensively.

"I am sorry… _Baby_?"

Dean shook his head impatiently.

"The ship," he explained. " _My_ ship. Sam knows she's got to be given special care. She can't just be abandoned in some random docking bay with folk who don't even know her!"

Delenn looked half amused, half puzzled.

"Forgive me for asking, Mr Winchester," she began, "But I was not aware your ship was built with organic technology."

It was Dean's turn to frown.

"What?" he said. "Of course it isn't. Where the hell would we get our hands on that?"

"Nowhere," Delenn answered. "I was merely trying to remind you that, since your ship _does not_ have organic technology, it cannot tell if it is among strangers or not."

Dean's look now was positively feral.

"Ambassador, much as I respect you…somewhere very deep down, you're actually lucky I'm not really here right now," he said. "Not even the Ambassador to Minbar can talk about my ship like that and live."

Delenn raised a pacifying hand.

"I will keep this in mind," she said. "Although I have to say, you humans can be very strange with your affection for inanimate objects."

Dean snorted. He could not believe he was arguing about his ship with the Minbari Ambassador. And all he had been ready before was a talk with Sam. He did not know if he could get to Sam himself now. But he supposed he could take advantage of the situation and have a message sent to Sam, wherever he was now.

"Ambassador," he began, "Can you get to Sam? Send him a message from me, I mean?"

Delenn nodded. Dean was relieved. He could at least touch base with Sam like that and let his brother know that he and Cas were both alive – and as well as could be, all things considered.

"Then tell him he was right," Dean began. "Both Cas and I are stuck down here. We've tried to get out, but no dice….uhhh….that is, we can't do it," he added quickly, remembering that the first time they had met, Delenn had not been too familiar with his brand of speech. "Tell him we need the help of someone who's topside to get out, so if he can't find a way to get us out, we'd appreciate it."

Dean paused. He had a feeling that opening doors to Purgatory would not be easy or safe. He also had a feeling Sam would not care.

"Look," he continued, "Tell him to think, before rushing headfirst into this, like he always does. If there's a price to be paid, tell him to back off. I'd rather not get out of here at all, than return and find he got himself killed to get me out."

"He will never listen," Delenn pointed out. "He will try to save you – no matter the cost to himself. That much I have managed to see in him."

Dean sighed wearily. He felt suddenly irritated and he did not know if it was at Delenn for pointing that out to him or at Sam for being who he was.

"I know," he admitted. "Can't blame a guy for trying, though, can you? Just tell him that if I come back only to find he got himself killed, I'll bring him back only to kick his ass all across the Galaxy and beyond…er….you can rephrase that when you talk to him, if you want."

"I think I will deliver it word for word," Delenn said, and her eyes glinted with amusement. "It would have greater impact that way. Is there anything else?"

There was, actually. There were plenty of other things Dean wanted to say to Sam. But the thing was, Sam usually guessed what those were. They had grown up together, after all. They did not need words for the deep stuff. And Dean sure as hell did not need to have a third party convey his brotherly affection to Sam.

"Nah, that's all," he said at length. "Just tell Sammy to keep his head down – as much as he can. And tell him….tell him I had this dream a couple of nights back and he was on a fancy spaceship somewhere…It was good to see him…Well…this last bit must have sounded completely random."

"Don't worry," Delenn assured him. "I will tell him. I think he will be glad to hear this."

Dean felt himself starting to get pulled back. He was returning to Purgatory. The effect of the fruits must be fading and Dean hated it. Even if he had not found Sam, he had still been reminded that there was a world beyond Purgatory. He hated to lose that. It was nice to talk to someone who did not want to rip his insides and have him for lunch.

"I think I have to go," Dean said. "Well….uh…thanks."

Delenn nodded.

"I hope to see you when you get back, Mr Winchester," she told him. "Good luck."

Dean's eyes snapped opened. He was back in Purgatory and just as that night when he had dreamed about Sam, Castiel was once again in his face.

"Personal space, Cas," he muttered wearily.

Castiel drew back slightly.

"Did you see Sam?" he wanted to know.

Dean shook his head.

"You mean it didn't work?" Benny asked sharply. "But then what happened to you, brother?"

He knew that for a while after eating the fruits Dean had been unresponsive, so he must have gone somewhere. Dean shook his head again.

"Oh no, it worked pretty damned well," he said, "Only it didn't take me to Sam. Long story. It involves my ship left in the care of a friggin' Minbari."

Benny sighed, shaking his head.

"Well, I'm sure you're making perfect sense to yourself, but I've gotta say, you've making none to me," he remarked. "Where did you go again?"

"Babylon 5," Dean replied. "I had a cosy little talk with Sam's favourite ambassador."

Then Dean gave Benny and Castiel a brief report of his conversation with Delenn. He told the two that Sam was already looking for him – and that, from what Delenn had hinted, he was pretty determined to find them. He left out a few things, though. He said nothing about his warning to Sam not to sacrifice himself for them. Sam was not going to pay any attention to it, anyway. At the end of the story, Benny looked relieved. He seemed content with the thought that there was someone looking for them. Castiel, however, looked doubtful. Dean noticed his grave face.

"All right," he said, "Let's have it. What's with the poop face?"

"Nothing, I suppose," Castiel replied. "Only…do you trust your messenger?"

Dean hesitated. He knew Castiel was reluctant to deal with aliens of any kind. He had said many times that he had been assigned to study humans – he was their protector. He did not want to meddle with other races much – even though he also said they were all part of his Father's plan as much as humans were.

"She came through the first time we worked with her, didn't she?" Dean admitted. "And Sammy apparently trusts her with my ship so…yeah, I don't see why she wouldn't convey a simple message to Sam. From what I've got, I think she's helping him, somehow."

"But why?" Castiel insisted.

Dean shrugged his shoulders dismissively.

"Don't know" he declared. "Maybe she's sweet on him."

He chuckled slightly at the thought. Benny joined in. Castiel still looked anxious, but he asked no more questions. The three looked at each other. They suddenly realised they did not have to look for the portal anymore.

"What do we do now, anyway?" Dean wanted to know.

Benny shrugged his shoulders.

"Nothing much we can do, mate," he said. "We just have to wait for your little brother to come get us."

Dean did not like the idea. He was not the type to wait for rescue to come to him. And he was not the type to be left without a purpose – especially not in a place like this.

 **White Star 18**

The next day after talking to Delenn, Sam said good-bye to Jody and went to join White Star 18. He regretted that Llewellyn's ship was not in the area. He was used to Llewellyn and Llewellyn knew him and accepted him, after a fashion. He had even looked out for Sam, in his brusque, matter of fact way.

The Captain of White Star 18 was a Minbari of the Warrior Caste. He took the obey without asking questions policy seriously, up to the point that he barely acknowledged Sam's existence. Since Sam boarded the ship, the captain had addressed him only once, when he handed him a data crystal with instructions for the mission Delenn wanted him to take part in when he reached his destination.

Apparently, the Interstellar Alliance was having a few problems. There were attacks on its trading ship – something that Delenn had already mentioned to Sam, when he had called her from Mars. No one really knew who was behind them. There had been a possible witness, an Earth pirate abroad a Drazi ship. He had been killed before he could tell anyone what he had seen and all the information the Alliance managed to gather in their investigation could not be proved. But they did manage to find the raider had sent a message a while before he died. The message was traced to the small Centauri colony and to a rather shady Earth businessman that was at the moment conducting transactions there. The businessman – as he called himself – had been identified by the Brakiri as having been a Hunter once – not a good one, apparently, more in it for the profit he could get from cursed artefacts than for any personal cause of his own. He had always been more or less on the wrong side of the law, which meant he would never talk to any official representative of the Alliance. But he would talk, most likely, to someone from his own world.

Sam doubted it. Half the Hunters still wanted his head on a platter. A lot of them still considered Sam not entirely human and responsible for the Apocalypse and could not even care that Sam had paid two hundred times and more for that one. Perhaps this Jacob Harper – Sam had never heard of him before, incidentally – had the same opinion of him.

It did not matter though. If the only thing Sam had to do was wrangle some information out of him, that was not going to be hard. And he was going to get that over with quickly so that he could concentrate on the real reason he was going to the colony in the first place.

Sam did not know yet where the portal was. He had managed to find out, though, that there was a group of Drazi on the colony that were members of a small religious cult. No one knew too much about them. Only that conventional Drazis called them heretics and frowned on their activities. Sam thought that was a start. He could ask them about the portal.

Unlike Llewelyn, the Minbari captain did not give Sam any duties. Sam thought he was going to go crazy with nothing to do but wait to reach the colony. The White Star made a few stops along the way - gathering potential information about the attacks. Sam would have given anything to be allowed on patrol a few times. He knew how to operate a Minbari flyer fairly well enough now, after Llewellyn had taught him. He could have handled it. At least it would have taken his mind off his worries.

Sam mentioned that to one of the Ranger recruits, Ralph, a young man in his late twenties, who seemed to have taken it upon himself to make Sam comfortable on the ship, whenever he could. Ralph chuckled and shook his head.

"Don't be too hard on the Captain," he advised. "It's not really anything personal. It's more – well, he likes to do things the proper way."

"Proper way?" Sam repeated.

"Like, you're not really a Ranger," Ralph pointed out. "You haven't been through our training on Tusenor. You can barely speak Minbari. You don't know how to use the pike…"

"Wanna bet?" Sam challenged. "Anyway, Captain Llewellyn let me do stuff."

"Yeah, but Captain Llewellyn ain't Minbari," Ralph reminded Sam. "Like I said, they do things properly. You being here is irregular enough. I doubt the Captain would have agreed to take you, had the orders come from someone other than Delenn. But Delenn only said to take you to the colony and that's that. She said nothing about letting you do stuff on the ship."

So Sam supposed he had to resign himself to an eventless trip. He studied Lena's translations again, but he already knew them by heart. They were not much comfort. They only served to remind him he had not reached Dean yet.

Two days after Sam left Mars, Ralph came to tell him the captain wanted to see him on the bridge. Apparently, there was a message for him from Ambassador Delenn. Sam went to the bridge, glad he was finally acknowledged. He returned to the sleeping quarters twenty minutes later, looking thoughtful and rather dazed. Delenn had given him a message he had never expected to receive. She had given him a message from Dean.

Sam supposed he should consider that a good thing. Dean was alive – or had been alive yesterday evening, when he had contacted Delenn. Castiel was with him and was most likely also all right. And at least Dean knew now Sam had already been looking for a way to get him out.

Despite the obvious good news, Sam could not get rid of a few troubling thoughts. Delenn had waited no time in delivering Dean's warning to him – _word for word_ , and that warning sounded so completely Dean that even if Sam had had any doubts about the message, they would have been erased then. He had already gathered from Lena's translations that there would be some price to pay – and that most likely that price was him changing places with Dean in Purgatory. Dean would hate him, if that happened. But Sam could take it. He preferred his brother angry at him – as long as he was out of Purgatory. A small voice inside his head warned him that was how things usually started to go wrong. Had it not been the same when Dean had made the deal? Sam ignored that voice. He usually did, when it did not go along with his need to rescue his brother.

Sam regretted the fact that he had chosen to travel with the White Stars and left the _Impala_ at home. True, he could have hardly kept his Ranger cover for long that way, but at least Dean would have found him. He would have talked to _him._ Sam almost envied Delenn.

But then he thought of Delenn's final message and realised that actually Dean had reached him once. The mention of the dream sounded too similar to Sam's own dream of his brother. Even the timeline seemed to fit. Perhaps he and Dean could contact each other without spells or other devices. Perhaps Sam only had to concentrate and he would dream of his brother again.

That night Sam did dream of Dean. Only he was not in Purgatory. He was in Hell. Fortunately, Sam was used to nightmares, so that he managed to wake up before he panicked the entire ship by screaming himself hoarse.


	9. Chapter 9 The search continues

**C** **hapter 9 The search continues**

 **Hello again :) Here's another chapter, sooner than expected. I hope you'll enjoy this one too.**

 **Babylon 5 doesn't belong to me. Supernatural does not belong to me, either**

 **White Star 18**

Sam did not sleep again after his nightmare. He spent the rest of the night staring in front of him. It was not that he did not have that nightmare with Dean in Hell pretty often. It was one of the things that plagued his mind, that he could not let go, even if Dean had escaped Hell years ago. But it was the first time this happened since Sam had started his quest to find Dean. And for some reason, it startled him more.

The only good news was that he would be at the colony the next day. If everything went well, he could have Dean out very soon. But then again, he thought bitterly, how often did things go well for him, anyway?

When White Star 18 was in orbit around the colony, Sam was given a shuttle and told he was on his own from then on. White Star 18 would not be landing on the planet, but would go on to its next destination. Sam was to send a report to Babylon 5 after his conversation with Harper, using their local Pak'ma'ra contact. If he wanted to leave the planet in the next few days, it was possible that he would have to take a passenger ship. There was only one White Star scheduled to be in that area and it was bound for Minbar.

Sam nodded distractedly at the instructions, thinking that the next time he would need a ship, it would be to take him to Babylon 5 to recover the _Impala_. He was also hoping to have Dean and Cas with him.

As Sam was heading for the shuttle, he met Ralph. He nodded to him. Ralph looked at him keenly.

"Man, I've seen hungover Centauri looking better than you," he remarked. "You sleep at all last night?"

"Oh, I've managed about thirty minutes," Sam answered. "Don't worry, I've functioned on less."

"Does this have anything to do with Entilza's message?" Ralph wanted to know. "Was it bad news?"

Sam shook his head fervently.

"It was great news," he said. "It's just…I'm about to do something, and I'm scared like hell it won't work."

Ralph gave Sam an encouraging smile.

"Come on," he said, "From what I've heard if you want something to work, you do your damn best to make it work."

They parted. It was only later that Sam realised Ralph had spoken as if he knew Sam – or, at least, knew _of_ him. But there was only one group of people who knew Sam so well. And he found it hard to believe that Ralph was associated with them.

 **Purgatory**

Dean did not last long with the idea of sitting around and doing nothing and simply allowing Sam the time he needed to get to them. It went against all his instincts, after all. He was the older brother. He was the one who had to help Sam – not backwards. Castiel had quickly protested against such reasoning when Dean had shared it with him and Benny one night, saying there was no way they could help Sam. He was outside and they were not. Finding the portal and opening it was up to Sam.

Dean would not have that, of course. He did not want Sam opening doors to the unknown without being fully aware of what he was getting into. Sam had done that once before, after all. And at times Dean thought they were still paying for that action.

So Dean suggested they capture more monsters – _alien monsters,_ that is, who knew about these things and could offer them some information. With the way things were going, they did not even have to be the ones looking for them. Monsters were always attacking them in that place, hoping against hope they'll get lucky and put an end to the menace the three had become.

Benny was completely on board with Dean's suggestion. Dean had no idea if this was because Benny was feeling a little guilty that his own way out did not work. But Dean was glad to have support from wherever he could take it. Castiel, on the other hand, was not exactly supportive. He detailed countless of times the recklessness of what Dean was doing, claiming that they had enough to worry for without going to look for trouble on their own. Dean thought it was rather rich, Castiel talking to him about recklessness. Who had let the Leviathan out, after all?

Dean did manage to gather some information – but he could not tell if it was reliable or not. The truth was that whatever had happened to disrupt the balance between Purgatory and the real world had been quite a long time ago. Nowadays few people – alien or otherwise –even knew about the portals. When they did know, it was mostly information passed on by word of mouth. Not very reliable, as Castiel had pointed out.

"Well, can't _you_ tell me more?" Dean snapped. "I mean, you're a friggin' Angel. Purgatory was set up by your people. You can't tell me that you've got a completely blank slate when it comes to this place."

"I do know a lot about Purgatory," Castiel admitted. "But I know about Purgatory as my kind intended it to be. We could not account for the damages done by the First Ones. We used to respect each other in the beginning. We recognised their place in the grand scheme of things. But then they started causing more and more trouble….It was hubris, that was their problem."

Dean raised his eyebrows.

"Oh, and randomly picking two people to play out your family issues wasn't friggin' arrogant at all," Dean muttered.

Castiel made to say something – probably correct Dean and remind him that he and Sam had not been randomly selected to be the instruments of the Apocalypse, they were born for that exact purpose. But he realised that would actually prove Dean's point even better and decided against it.

Dean had been particularly furious ever since one of the creatures he captured for interrogation told him opening a portal to Purgatory to get someone accidentally stuck there was not easy. It was not free, either. It often required the person opening it to take the place of the one stuck there.

"I mean, this makes zero sense," Dean grumbled. "One poor son of a bitch gets stuck in order to get another poor son of a bitch out? And then what? Someone else rescues son of a bitch number two and gets stuck himself?"

"Some might say this is the Universe looking for balance," Benny remarked, then seeing Dean's gaze turn dangerous he added defensively: "Hey, don't look at me like that, brother. It's something the Minbari love saying. You're pals with a Minbari, you should know."

"Yeah, but you I can smack without getting a war started," Dean pointed out.

Dean had no idea what he was going to do now. If Sam was going to try and rescue him and got stuck in Purgatory himself…Dean did not know what he would do with himself then. Castiel noticed his anxiousness.

"Are you going to warn Sam off?" he asked, glancing unwillingly towards one of the trees underneath which the red berries could be seen clearly.

Dean followed Castiel's gaze and grimaced.

"Yeah, not really my type of food," he said. "Plus, I won't reach Sam, will I? And I guess there's a limit to how often I can pop up in Delenn's quarters at all hours and ask her to play friggin' messenger for me."

He did not mention that he had already tried contacting Sam. He still remembered that dream and the idea that it could have been true had not left him.

Dean had actually tried to make himself dream of Sam a few times. he thought he could maybe touch base with Sam again. It did not work. He had a few dreams of Sam – but they were dreams of when Sam was little (and there was also one about Sam throwing himself into the Cage, but Dean was not going to dwell on that one). Perhaps that dream with Sam on the fancy ship had actually meant nothing and that was why it was not repeating. Either that, or Sam had given up sleep. Knowing his brother and how he got when he had a puzzle to solve, Dean would not have put it past him.

 **Centauri colony**

Colony 10 – as the imperial records dubbed the small world on the border of Drazi and Centauri space – was one of those typical frontier worlds. It was the cause of disputes and debates in times of war. In times of peace, however, it was completely ignored and considered too insignificant to think about twice. The Drazi and Centuari that lived there tolerated each other to the point of each race pretending the other did not exist. Except when business was involved. A lot of things were overlooked when business was involved.

And it was not only the Drazi and the Centauri that did business there. The colony was actually teeming with other races. It was like a meeting place. Almost like Babylon 5, only a lot more disreputable. Things that could not have been traded anywhere else were exchanged routinely on Colony 10 and no one bothered with them. It was a paradise for Dust dealers or raiders or people selling weapons now forbidden by the Interstellar Alliance. Colony 10 was one of the underworlds of the Galaxy and anyone could pass unnoticed there.

Sam saw all these things from the beginning. He thought they were going to bring him a considerable advantage. If he went about in the evening, chanting strange languages in the woods, no one was going to think twice. In fact, no one was going to look twice. Everyone else would be too busy following their own interests to care about anyone who did not collude with them.

"All right," he muttered to himself. "Let's get started."

 **Drazi temple**

Other groups that found refuge on Colony 10 were those of religious cults that others considered heretical. Although technically religious freedom was stipulated in the Declaration of Principles every member of the Interstellar Alliance had to sign, this was easier said than done. And a Drazi cult that was so different from the usual Drazi religion, believing in a land of monsters and holding the keys to that land, was not going to fare very well on the Drazi Homeworld. Of course, there were more reasons than intoleration behind the presence of the cult on Colony 10. And those reasons were known only by the cult and a few others scattered all over the Galaxy.

Sam Winchester entered the Drazi temple, his footsteps echoing in the wide hall. He thought the place looked more like a cathedral than a temple of the Drazis. But he was not there for the décor.

He strode towards the altar, where an old Drazi – the only other occupant of the temple – sat on the cold floor. He seemed deep in thought – or in meditation, although Sam thought the idea of Drazis meditating was rather ludicrous – and he did not appear to hear Sam approach. Sam cleared his throat. At the sound, the Drazi started, his eyes snapping open. He frowned at Sam, taking in his species and his attire.

"I thought the mighty Interstellar Alliance cared little about this place – just like everyone else," he pronounced.

Sam shrugged his shoulders.

"That I don't know," he admitted. "I'm not really here on behalf of the Alliance. I'm here for answers."

The Drazi closed his eyes again, dismissing Sam.

"No answers to be had in this place," he said. "None that you might want to hear, anyway."

"I think you'll say differently once you see what I've got," Sam declared.

Saying that, he took out the map he had been given by the Enphili. While Sam had promised to burn it when he was done with it, he figured he still needed it. He did not intend to get rid of it until he found Dean.

The Drazi's eyes widened when he realised what Sam was holding. Clearly, he realised the significance of the map. He made a move to take it, but Sam pulled it out of his reach.

"The Guardians entrusted this to me," Sam warned. "I'm not gonna give it to you. Just want to prove I have every right to be here."

The Drazi frowned.

"No one has a right to carry that around," he said. "No one has a right to open that door."

Sam held his breath. He hoped very much the Drazi would not withhold cooperation from him. Not now. not when he was so close.

"I just need to know where the door is," he said calmly. "And I've a feeling you have no choice but to tell me."

The Drazi did not answer right away. He turned his back to Sam and stood for a while deep in thought.

"Not many survive after opening the door," he said. "Most are taken to the land of the dark ones. As payment for opening the door."

"I don't care about that," Sam said quickly. "Not as long as I manage to get my brother out of there."

The Drazi nodded knowingly then, as if he suddenly understood.

"It is about family, then," he remarked.

Sam did not answer. Because, of course it was about family. And when hadn't it been, when it came to Dean and him?

"There is a forest within walking distance of this town," the Drazi told him. "The portal is there. but think before you try to open it. You might be disappointed by what comes out."

Sam did not allow himself to appear daunted.

"Not as long as Dean gets out," he said. "The rest does not matter."

Sam turned on his heels and walked out the temple. He did not look back. If he had, he would have noticed the Drazi shaking his head as he watched him leave.

Sam walked towards the main town of Colony 10. It was nearly evening. But he knew he would have to wait a day before opening the portal. He still had to complete the mission Delenn had assigned to him. He might not get another chance, if the old Drazi had been right, and Sam would be sent to Purgatory. If that happened, he did not want to leave any debts behind.


	10. Chapter 10 Further into the dark

**Chapter 10 Further into the Dark**

 **Greetings, Readers. I'm glad to see you're still enjoying the story. Thanks for your interest, so far. I seem to have set up a few mysteries, and I promise they will be answered...eventually ;) Although I'm afraid not in this chapter. Well, enjoy, and have a great weekend (what's left of it)!**

 **Nothing that you recognise from other sources belongs to me.**

 **Purgatory**

The three made camp again for the night. It was freezing, so Dean went in search of firewood. It probably was not wise for him to go out alone. But there was only as much time one could spend constantly with two other people without wanting to gauge their eyes out. He needed the space.

He also needed to clear his head. Ever since he had discovered Sam might have to change places with him, Dean was suddenly less enthusiastic to get out. He had meant it when he told Delenn he did not want to escape Purgatory if the price was Sam's life. Well, apparently the price really was Sam's life. And Dean had no idea if he could get to Sam again and warn him – or if warning him was even worth it, as Sam was sure not to care about anything than getting Dean back.

But hadn't it always been that way? He and Sam trying to rescue each other and more often than not breaking themselves and the world in the process. Dean wondered sometimes if the cycle would ever end. He shook himself, banishing the thought. If Sam got himself into Purgatory, Dean sure as hell was not going to leave him there. So they might break the world again, soon enough.

Dean had enough firewood now to last them the night – if they could get the fire started, that is. They did not always manage. He did not feel like going back to the camp just yet, though. Now that there was little to do beyond surviving and hoping Sam got to them soon, Dean felt more and more the need to be alone. He could feel that the other two were wondering what Sam was doing at the moment and if he had found out how to get them out yet.

Benny perhaps even doubted that Sam would manage to get them out at all. He did not know Sam, after all. Cas did not doubt or, at least, Dean hoped he did not. After all the things they had gone through – and after all the things Cas had done to Sam – Dean hoped that Cas was now done with the whole "mistrust Sam implicitly, because he's the demons' chosen one and not ours".

Dean was just heading back when he heard a branch crack somewhere ahead of him. Dean tensed. He carefully put the firewood down, so that he might be free to fight, if it came to that. perhaps whatever it was would leave him alone. _Right, and perhaps I can wish myself back topside and have no need for Sam to come here and save my ass._

A figure appeared from the grey undergrowth. Dean frowned. He could recognise it clearly, even in the dim light. It was clear the figure could recognise him too.

"Hello, Dean," it greeted.

"I'd like to say it's good to see you, Gordon," Dean retorted. "Truth is, I was actually hoping I saw the back of you long ago."

Gordon Walker was a sore subject for Dean. He used to be a Hunter, before he had gotten turned into a vampire. But what Dean hated most about him was that he had tried his damnest to kill Sam, thinking he was going to turn evil. And Dean was not the forgiving sort when it came to people wanting to hunt down his brother – for whatever reason.

Gordon laughed at Dean's greeting.

"It's funny, really," he remarked. "The way we too meet here, in Purgatory."

"Oh, yeah, hilarious," Dean said. "What the hell do you want, Gordon?"

Gordon's smile faded and he grew grave.

"You hear all sorts of rumours about this place," he said. "And one of them is that you and your new monster friends are using that freak brother of yours to open a door to Purgatory and get you out."

"So what if we are?" Dean asked, uncompromisingly.

Gordon gave a disbelieving laugh.

"You're kidding, right?" he demanded. "You two haven't done enough damage topside? You have to start all over again?"

Dean felt slightly uncomfortable. Gordon's words were too close to his own previous line of thinking. But he'd be damned if he gave the likes of Gordon the satisfaction of knowing they might have a point.

"You've given up the right to even think about my brother a long time ago," he warned Gordon. "And trust me when I say you don't want to provoke me right now."

Gordon acted as if he had not heard Dean's warning.

"Of course," he mused, "A lot of folk here say Sam might get himself stuck here if he wants to get you out. Fitting, wouldn't you think so, Dean? Your brother being stuck in the place monsters go when they die? I'd say he'd be finally home."

Dean's expression turned steely. He made a move towards Gordon. The other laughed.

"You can't really kill me here, Dean," he reminded him. "This is my Afterlife, remember? Not what I'd pictured for myself, though."

"To be honest, I pictured you a little lower, too," Dean quipped.

Gordon did not rise to the bait. Dean thought that was a bit different from the Gordon Walker he remembered. He would have had Dean's had once, if he was told the things he had done earned him a place in Hell. Purgatory must have softened him up, Dean thought wryly. Either that, or it had taught him his place.

Gordon took a step back.

"It was nice seeing you, Dean," he said cheerfully. "Can't wait to renew my acquaintance with your brother, too. I look forward to having him here."

Gordon flashed a sadistic grin as he said that. Dean was about to pounce on him, when Gordon vanished as quickly as he had appeared. Dean bent to pick up the firewood, shaking his head.

"Son of a bitch," he cursed.

 **Bar on Colony 10**

Sam walked inside the crowded bar and blinked in the dim light. The place was teeming with people of all races. Most of them were quite rowdy. Music was blaring.

Sam made his way to one of the farthest corners and ordered a drink. He sat down to wait for Jacob Harper. He had managed to find out with a few well-placed questions that Harper came there every evening around that time to do business. Well, Sam thought grimly, tonight he would be doing business with him.

As he was waiting for his target to arrive, Sam had plenty of time to take in the scene around him. He noticed a couple of Brakiri drinking in a corner, a few Drazi playing cards at another table, several Pak'ma'ra moving about unnoticed. At another table, two humans were conducting some kind of negotiation. They had a telepath with them. Sam's eyes lingered slightly longer over her. He could not see her face clearly. Yet there was something in her posture that was familiar to him. He could not place her anywhere, though. He did not know any telepaths. He and Dean usually avoided them.

The door opened and Sam's attention was drawn swiftly there. A couple of Centauri guards walked in. The door closed behind them.

Sam leaned back in his chair. Harper should be arriving any time now. And Sam had to be alert. He had to get to Harper before anyone else approached him. He did not want to waste more time with him than he had to. He had to complete the mission Delenn gave him that very night. Tomorrow he was going to open the doors to Purgatory, after all. And he did not know if there was anything for him afterwards.

To distract himself from that thought, Sam started paying attention to the music. It was a strange piece. Early 21st century Earth, probably, and quite whimsical. He took in the words, almost against his will:

" _We are one, we are a universe,_

 _Forbearers of what will be, scions of the Devonian Sea_

 _Eons pass, writing the tale of us all_

 _A day-to-day new opening for the Greatest Show on Earth."_

Sam had to wonder how a song like that came to be played in a seedy little bar on a Centauri colony. By the reaction of some of the obviously regular clients, it had to be a personal favourite.

The door opened again. A man walked in. Sam grew alert. The man was middle-aged and looked rather nondescript. He was dressed in a wrinkled suit and had an expensive gold watch on his wrist. Still, Sam could recognise the former Hunter in him. It was in the way he took in the room, as if searching for the closest exit, or in the way he looked at everybody who was close by, as if to assess whether they were friend or foe. Even without the description Sam had already been given, he would have had no trouble recognising Jacob Harper.

Sam got up and asked for another drink. He made his way towards the table Harper had claimed and deposited his drink in front of him. Harper looked up. His initial interest faded when he saw Sam.

"Sorry," he said dismissively. "I don't do business with you Rangers."

Sam ignored Harper's scathing comment and sat down at the same table.

"I'm not exactly a Ranger," he admitted. "I'm a Hunter – just like you were once."

Harper looked Sam up and down as if trying to determine if his claim was true. He snorted.

"A Hunter, you say," he declared. "Is there a reason why you're moonlighting for the Interstellar Alliance? Is the pay that good?"

Sam shrugged his shoulders.

"I was offered exactly what I asked for," he answered truthfully enough.

Harper was still looking at Sam thoughtfully. No doubt he was trying to guess if he knew Sam from anywhere. Sam decided to spare him the hard work.

"I'm Sam Winchester," he announced bluntly. "I'm sure you've heard of me before."

Sam did not know what had prompted him to disclose his identity in that way. It was a risky thing to do when it came to hunters. True, after Hell, most Hunters had begun to tolerate Sam, if not completely accept him. But there were still some who considered Lucifer's former vessel a good enough trophy to add to their list of victories.

Harper's eyes narrowed. For a moment, he tensed and Sam was sure that if he had been armed, he would have made a move to attack. But he was not and anyway he knew better than to murder a man in the place he usually conducted his business. It was not profitable.

"Whatever the hell you're after, I want no part of it," Harper hissed.

"Relax," Sam said, trying to calm him. "I'm not here to ask for your help in a hunt. I'm not here for a hunt at all."

"No, you're here to break open Purgatory," Harper commented.

Sam stiffened. He tried not to let anything show on his face. He had no idea how Harper knew that. The few people who knew could not have told him.

"I don't know who feeds you this kind of information," he said calmly. "But I think you should fire him. You're way off the mark."

Harper frowned.

"I've heard it from another Hunter," he said. "Someone who visited Aiden the Strange on Proxima before they had him spaced for war crimes. Aiden said you came knocking on his door asking for information about Purgatory. And here you are on a planet where there's a Drazi cult that supposedly knows the way to the land of the monsters, as they call it. I don't believe in coincidences, Sammy. Do you?"

Sam leaned closer to Harper.

"Here's the deal," he whispered, his voice still calm, but with a hint of steel in it. "Call me Sammy one more time and I'll cut out your tongue in front of everybody. Then I'll find every single person you've been doing business with and tell them you're swindling them and they should have you for breakfast. There's only one person who gets to call me that and it ain't you. Got it?"

Harper looked rather worried briefly. Sam saw him swallowing harshly even though he was trying to pretend such threats did not bother him.

"My, my," he commented, "You're in serious need of some anger management, kid."

Sam ignored Harper's comment. He waved the bartender and asked for another drink.

"How about we skip the pleasantries," he told Harper. "I'm only here to ask you a question."

"About Purgatory?" Harper wanted to know. "Cause, even if I knew anything about it, I wouldn't go around telling the likes of you."

Sam shook his head.

"Don't worry," he said, "It's got nothing to do with Purgatory, so whatever conscience you're pretending to have is clear. I want something else from you. A few days ago, you were contacted by a smuggler operating in Drazi space. He shared some interesting information with you. How am I going so far?"

Harper did not look interested.

"I'm contacted by a lot of smugglers operating all over the Galaxy," he replied, sounding bored.

"Maybe," Sam conceded. "But this one had something big to spill to you. Something that a lot of people want answered. Something to do with unknown attacks on trading ships."

Harper did not react to that. His eyes were scanning the room, as if suddenly interested in the crowd around them. Sam knew a stall tactic when he saw one.

"He's dead," Sam announced bluntly. "The smuggler was killed for what he knew. He can't share his information with anyone else. But he did share it with you. So why not be a good fella and pass it along?"

Harper scoffed.

"What's it to you, anyway?" he demanded. "It's not like the ships are being attacked by ghosts or demons. This isn't Hunter business."

"Maybe not," Sam conceded. "I still want to know."

"But why?" insisted. "How could it possibly help you?"

Sam gave an exasperated sigh.

"I promised a friend, ok?" he admitted at length. "Someone helped me with something and I offered to help out in return."

Harper inspected Sam carefully.

"You made a deal," he concluded. "With someone from the Interstellar Alliance, I'm guessing. Well, I shouldn't be surprised, should I? From what I've heard, you Winchesters are big on deals."

Sam told himself not to rise to the obvious bait, even though he was itching to take a swing at the former Hunter. Harper, meanwhile, was staring thoughtfully into his drink.

"You know," he began, talking almost to himself, "Normally, I would tell you to go to hell and take whoever sent you to ask those questions with you."

" I've already been there," Sam reminded Harper. "And leave my employer out of this. Now, you said _normally_. So…these are special circumstances, right? And you're gonna help me?"

Harper looked amused.

"Not out of the goodness of my heart," he warned Sam. "See, this is some pretty heavy information and it should have a price to it. So…what do you say to another deal?"

"What deal?" Sam asked cautiously.

He did not have time for this. He had to get his answers soon. The following night he wanted to focus only on getting Dean out. He did not want to delay that much longer. It had already been too long.

"I have a job for you," Harper announced. "Don't worry, it's a Hunter's job. Nothing you can't handle."

"How long's it gonna take?" Sam asked uncompromisingly.

"Shouldn't take too long," Harper replied carelessly. "It's pretty straightforward actually. I'd do it myself but, honestly, I'm a little rusty."

Not to mention that whatever the job was, it came with risks. Harper did not look the type to want to take risks without personal gains. Sam said nothing of these thoughts, though, and merely indicated to Harper that he was listening.

"An associate of mine built this little warehouse for housing certain goods that might not be approved by the Alliance," Harper began, "You know, things we are no longer allowed to trade…"

"Weapons," Sam declared bluntly. "Or Dust. Or both. What's this got to do with me?"

"Apparently, the guards there have been reporting strange occurrences," Harper went on. "You know, loud noises, unexplainable damage, one guard swears he was pushed up some stairs. Banged his leg pretty bad. I'm thinking vengeful spirit."

Sam suddenly appeared interested.

"Let me guess," he said. "This warehouse was built on the west side of this town, right?" At Harper's nod, Sam rolled his eyes. "Typical," he said. "I researched this place before coming here. During one of the Centauri-Drazi disputes over who owns this colony, there was an incident. A group of Drazi burned half the town. Half the _west side_ of the town. At night, catching everyone by surprised. It must have killed quite a lot of people. That area's a breeding ground for vengeful spirits. And you build a weapons warehouse right on top of it. Smooth."

Harper scowled.

"I don't need you of all people lecturing me on morality, Winchester," he spat. "I want you to get rid of the damn spirit. I don't care what you have to do. You get rid of it and I'll tell you what you want to know. Otherwise you can go find your information somewhere else."

But there was no somewhere else. Harper was the only one the smuggler had talked to. Of course, Sam could simply refuse the job and sent a message to Delenn that Harper did not want to cooperate. It did not feel right, though. And the vengeful spirit could easily start attacking innocent people. Dean would not have liked Sam walking away from a hunt and refusing to save lives.

Sam sighed, running a hand through his hair, wearily. All he wanted was to get his brother out of Purgatory. Why couldn't he be allowed to do that?

"All right," he told Harper resignedly. "If it's as straightforward as you say, it shouldn't take long. Be here tomorrow afternoon. I might have it all solved by then."

 **AN: The song Sam hears in the bar is part of _The Greatest Show on Earth_ by Finnish band Nightwish. Needless to say, I'm in no way associated with them. I just thought it would be fitting to have this played two hundred years into the future on another planet :)**


	11. Chapter 11 Hunting interlude

**Chapter 11** **Hunting Interlude**

 **Hello again. Thanks so much for your interest in the story so far. Here is the next chapter. I actually might have gotten a little carried away here...couldn't help myself, though ;) Enjoy!**

 **Motel on Colony 10**

Sam sat in the small room he had rented for himself on Colony 10. It was late, but he still managed to grab hold of some records concerning the incident that took place about 50 years back, when a group of Drazi had decided to send a message to the Centauri that the planet was theirs. They set fire to the west side of the town – incidentally, the side of the town where the Centauri had most of their quarters. It was night and the fire spread quickly. Before the flames could be extinguished, the town was reduced to half its size and a lot of people were dead.

There was no doubt in Sam's mind that the vengeful spirit terrorizing the warehouse was connected to that burning. As far as he could tell, there had been no other incidents of such violence there. Also, in one of the accounts Harper had been so kind to provide Sam with, the witness described seeing a young Centauri lady of high standing appearing suddenly in the warehouse. Others said they heard a woman crying.

After further research, Sam thought he could tell who the spirit was. As far as he knew, only one young female Centauri of high status had died in the fire. She was the Lady Anira, the daughter of the colony's imperial tax collector. It was said the tax collector was actually the intended target of the Drazi's attack. If so, they had failed miserably. Apart from the tax collector's eldest child, the rest of the family escaped intact. The youngest daughter was actually still alive and living on the colony. Sam intended to pay her a visit first thing next morning to talk more about Anira. He needed to find out why she might have become a restless spirit instead of simply moving on.

There had been no record of any hauntings prior to the building of the warehouse, which led Sam to believe that was actually what had disturbed Anira. His suspicions had to be right and the place must hold weapons, which would of course enrage a ghost dead by violent means. Sam could not say he really blamed her. But he knew she had to be stopped. There was only a matter of time before she started hurting innocent people. And also, stopping her was the only way Harper would answer his questions. The sooner he saw this hunt through, the sooner he could go back to focusing on Dean.

Sam wondered what was keeping Anira tied to life. It could not have been her body. That had burned in the fire. It had to be something of hers, then. A possession that one of her friends or relatives had kept.

Apart from Anira's sister, the rest of the family was either dead or back on Centauri Prime. Sam did not have to worry about those back on Centauri Prime having something of Anira's. Her spirit would have stayed with the object and she would have been haunting Centauri Prime and not Colony 10. No, whatever object kept Anira tied to life, it had to be on Colony 10, most likely with her sister – or maybe with one of her friends.

But from what Sam could read from accounts of Anira, she did not have a lot of friends. Her sister the next day would be able to throw more light on this, but apparently, Anira had been quite secluded, especially for a Centauri of high standing. There had been, apparently, at some point rumours that Anira was the mistress of an important member of the military, but nothing was confirmed. Again, Sam was going to have to check with the sister.

This was actually the part Sam hated most – talking to relatives, coming back to stir old wounds because the death of their loved ones had been so unjust they could not let it go. Sam wondered how he would have felt if someone came to him to talk about Dean years after he had lost him, then shook his head vehemently to dismiss such thoughts. Dean was not lost forever to him. He knew where he was and he was going to get him out – the very next evening, if he could.

Sam eyed the small bed in the corner of the motel room. He yawned widely, feeling suddenly tired. He had not been sleeping too well ever since he had left Mars. Some rest would do him good. And perhaps Dean might be able to reach him again. Or perhaps he was going to have another nightmare of Dean's time in Hell. And that thought was enough to put Sam off sleeping.

Sighing tiredly, Sam turned his attention back to his research. He knew the dangers of going into a hunt when he was not firing on all cylinders. But he could not bring himself to rest just yet. Most likely, he was in for yet another sleepless night.

 **Home of Lady Drusella**

First thing next morning, Sam called on the Lady Drusella – Lady Anira's younger sister. She lived in a large villa on the outskirts of the town. She lived alone and did not see too many people. She agreed to see Sam, though, when he let her know he was there to talk about the fire from fifty years ago.

"Will the Interstellar Alliance force the Drazis to offer compensations to the families?" was the first thing she asked Sam. "The Drazi government never gave us anything, you know. They said they since they obviously did not condone the acts of a few terrorists, that meant they were not accountable for that night."

"I can't promise anything," Sam said truthfully. "But I'd like to hear your side of the story. You're one of the few surviving victims, so whatever you have to tell, I am sure it would help."

Lady Drusella looked at Sam sceptically. Sam returned the look. He noticed that she was dressed in dark clothes, her hair covered by a veil. She looked old and Sam suspected she had aged prematurely. Everything about the room they were in was sober. There were none of the lavish ornaments Sam expected to see in Centauri homes.

"Now," Sam began. "From what I've heard, your home was one of the first to be taken by the flames. But most of your family survived, am I right?"

Drusella's face tightened.

"If you could call that surviving," she commented. "I wouldn't."

"I'm sorry," Sam corrected quickly. "I wanted to say, most of your family – including you – managed to get out. How did that happen?"

Drusella sighed. She had a faraway look in her eyes.

"My father and my brother were not even at the house when it happened," she informed Sam. "My brother was at some kind of feast and my father had been called the day before on Centauri Prime on urgent business. My mother and my father's second wife both had rooms on the ground floor. It was easy for them to get out."

Sam waited patiently for Drusella to say more.

"And you?" he prompted eventually. "How did you get out? You were not, I take it, on the ground floor?"

Drusella hesitated. Then, she shook her head.

"No," she admitted quietly. "No I was on the second floor with Anira. Me and Anira shared a room, actually."

Sam leaned forward, looking Drusella in the eye.

"So," he began, "If you were both on the second floor…how did you escape?"

There was a bitter smile on Drusella's lips.

"That is not what you want to ask," she accused Sam. "What you really want to know is how I escape when Anira did not. Is that not so?"

"I wasn't accusing you of anything," Sam said quickly. "And I'm sure you did everything in your power to help her."

Drusella huffed a bitter laugh that sounded more like a sob.

"She told me to go ahead," she said in a small voice.

Sam frowned, confused.

"What do you mean?" he asked. "Who did?"

Drusella sighed. She was no longer looking at Sam and seemed to be somewhere far away.

"We made it out of our room, you know," she announced, still staring slightly into space. "And Anira…she must have realised we wouldn't both be able to navigate our way through the burning house. She pushed me ahead, told me to go on and don't look back." Drusella paused, biting her lips. When she spoke again, her voice was trembling slightly. "She said she'd be right behind me…Told me: _Don't you worry, Sella, I'll be right behind you every step of the way, only don't look back, promise?_. And I trusted her enough not to look back."

Sam did not know what to say to that. He knew from experience that there was not anything to be said that could have made this even remotely better. Suddenly, it all made sense to him. The way Drusella lived alone and isolated, so unlike the Centauri of her status, the way she kept herself almost in mourning, without any bright objects around her, even the reason she was still on the colony while the rest of her family had relocated on Centauri Prime after the incident – it was clear Drusella was bound by guilt and loss and had been so for the last fifty years. Nothing Sam could have told her would have made her let go of the guilt.

Sam cleared his throat. There was one thing he could say – one thing he had been told plenty of times himself on various occasions.

"I'm sure she had no regrets about her decision," he said. "I think, to her, getting you out was much more important than saving herself. I know this doesn't change what happened, but it tells me a lot about your sister."

Drusella turned her head away and wiped her eyes. Sam pretended not to notice.

"She should not have even been there, on the night of the fire," she stated bitterly. "She was supposed to go to that celebration, with my brother. My parents actually insisted that she go there. It would have been the perfect opportunity to officially announce her relationship with a very important member of the army."

So had not been someone's mistress, as the rumours had it, but actually someone's betrothed. Or, at least, she would have been, had she gone to that event. Of course, if she had attended that event she would have most likely be alive now and not haunting a warehouse stashed with illegal weapons.

"So why didn't she go?" Sam wanted to know.

Drusella hesitated. She suddenly looked like she would have rather be dead than admit to what have happened.

"Because I was worried," she said in the end. "I had a feeling something bad was going to happen to her and begged her not to go. She did not really believe me, I think. She stayed only to humour me. It was my fault, though. If I hadn't asked her to stay…"

Sam inwardly cursed Harper for making him face a story that had so many parallels to his own life. He and Drusella had more in common than he was comfortable admitting.

"I know this isn't going to help," he said, "But you have to stop blaming yourself. You weren't the one who set the fire, were you?"

Drusella scoffed.

"Many times my family believed I was a Seer," she informed Sam. "And that is true, I have had many premonitions. Just not when they were most needed."

Drusella drew a deep breath, trying hard to compose herself. When she looked back at Sam, her eyes were clear.

"But you are not here to listen to my sob stories," she said firmly. "You have a job to do, am I right?"

The way Drusella looked at him, it made Sam think that she was not referring to Sam's false reason of getting the account about the fire for the official records of the Interstellar Alliance. That was fine with Sam. His next questions would have pretty much blown his cover anyway.

"Is there anything belonging to Drusella that survived the fire?" he wanted to know. "Perhaps something she gave to her future husband?"

Drusella scoffed.

"Him!" she said. "There was not a lot of love between my sister and him. The marriage was more one of convenience. Centauri marriages often are. I don't think my sister would have given him anything of hers, and even if she did, he wouldn't have kept it. He wasn't the sentimental type. He's moved on."

 _But you didn't_ , Sam thought. Which meant that it was quite possible Drusella that was keeping something of Anira's.

"What about you?" he prompted. "When you escaped, did you have something of Anira's with you?"

Drusella hesitated. She looked at Sam questioningly, as if wondering what Sam was going to demand next. Sam put his hand on Drusella's arm.

"Listen to me," he said earnestly. "You've got to tell me the truth. And you've got to give me whatever it is you have of hers. Because it's keeping her here. Because your sister can't rest because of it."

"My sister can't rest because her life was cut short before she could even live it," Drusella snapped. "Because she was collateral damage in a war we did not even care about."

"That's not what's keeping her here," Sam insisted. "What's keeping her here is whatever you've got of hers."

Drusella sighed. Her hand went unknowingly to the silver locket she was wearing round her neck. Sam followed the gesture. It was the ornament that Lady Drusella wore. It seemed out of place with her sombre attire. Sam's eyes narrowed.

"The locket," he said. "Is it hers?"

But Drusella shook her head.

"What's inside it is," she admitted. "You know most Centauri women shave their heads. Well, when Anira did, she gave me a lock of her hair. I gave her one of mine in return. We both wore them in round our necks. As a matter of fact, she was wearing it the night she…the night of the fire."

Sam did not say anything. He waited for Drusella to make the next move. It was clear for him she somehow knew why he was there – perhaps she really was a Seer as her family suspected. If so, she must know what Sam wanted from her.

Drusilla looked at Sam pleadingly, as if urging him to understand.

"It's all I have of her," she said. "All that is left of someone who was my dearest friend. And now you want to take it from me."

"I have to," Sam insisted. "And that…that's not all you have of Anira. You still remember everything about her, don't you? You don't need a lock of her hair to keep her memory alive."

Drusella fixed Sam with a steely gaze. Something in her eyes made Sam freeze. It felt like she was really seeing him – like she could read all his life and all the secrets he kept hidden even from Dean.

"Then why do you still have it with you?" she demanded.

Sam frowned in confusion.

"I'm sorry? Have what?"

"I told you I see sometimes," Drusella reminded Sam. "You carry something of your brother's…even after your brother threw it away."

Sam gaped at Drusella. No one knew he had recovered the amulet Dean had cast away years ago. He had been guarding it carefully and he was sure no one suspected he had it. Not Bobby or Castiel and certainly not Dean. And yet, Drusella had seen through him during their short conversation.

"That's different," he said firmly. "My brother's not dead. He's lost, but he's not dead. I can bring him back."

Drusella leaned against the couch she was sitting, looking suddenly exhausted.

"Aren't you the lucky one," she told him bitterly.

Sam did not answer. He had never considered himself or Dean lucky. He always thought their life was one curse after another. But now, looking at Drusella, he realised that he actually was. He was going to get Dean back soon. But Drusella had lost her sister and was now in the process of losing her all over again by handling the one thing that was left of Anira to Sam.

"I'm sorry," Sam insisted. "I wouldn't ask this of you, if I didn't have to. But your sister can't rest, and soon enough she'll start hurting innocent people. Trust me, you're doing her a favour by giving me the lock of her hair. You're saving her, just as she saved you."

Drusella did not move for a long time. Sam was about to repeat his request. She shook her head and took off her locket. She handed it to Sam.

"Take this as well," she told him. "I don't really need it anymore."

Sam nodded wordlessly. He got up to leave, suspecting Drusella wanted to see the back of him.

"You know," Drusella told him then. "I knew Anira had started to walk. I was waiting for her to come to me."

Sam shook his head regretfully.

"I'm afraid it doesn't work that way," he told her.

He was almost at the door, when Drusella called him back again.

"I see things about you too, Sam," she announced. "You're heading for a very dark place. And you're heading the wrong way."

Sam turned swiftly around.

"What do you mean?" he demanded hoarsely.

But Drusella shook her head. She was not going to say anything more. She probably did not know more.

 **Purgatory**

Dean and Castiel were anxiously waiting for Benny. The vampire had left on what he claimed was an important mission of information gathering that would help all of them in the long run. By all of them, he also meant Sam, as Benny saw how worried Dean was by the fact that he might have to exchange his escape from Purgatory with Sam's life. Benny did not mention where he was going to gather this information. He did not even say why he had to go alone, only that it was important that he did.

"It does make sense," Castiel pointed out. "He is a vampire. He fits here better than we do. And, you know, him escaping now with us does not matter much. If he dies again, he still has to return to this place."

Dean cast the Angel an irritated look.

"Just like that?" he asked. "The fact that he helped us – helped _you_ – means nothing in your book? What about redemption through good deeds? I thought you guys were big on that."

Castile sighed heavily.

"I do not make the rules, Dean," he explained patiently. "As I have told you many times. Not to mention the fact that during my last time in Heaven I have not exactly earned myself too many favours. I think my brethren are glad to see the back of me. I do not blame them, though. I did some unforgivable things, as I a sure you of all people can agree."

Dean snorted at that.

"You were trying to do the right thing," he conceded reluctantly. "Even if you were doing it in a dumb way. Don't get me wrong, I still don't like what you did to Sam, and you've done some other crappy things – but I don't think they made the person who hasn't."

Castiel looked at Dean curiously. When he had first met him, Dean would have never been so lenient.

"You have changed," Castiel remarked.

Dean shook his head at that.

"I'm stuck in Monsterland, Cas," he pointed out tiredly. "I've got no idea if I'll ever get out again or the sacrifices I'll have to make to do so. I don't have the energy to hold grudges on top of that."

They fell silent, waiting for Benny to return, hoping that, for once, he would bring good news.

 **Colony 10**

Now that Sam had the lock of Anira's hair, he could have easily taken it to Harper and told him to finish the job. After all, he used to be a Hunter himself. He could surely have handled burning a haunted object. But Harper was also a sleazy piece of work. Sam thought it would have been an insult to Anira's memory, if he allowed Harper to handle matters. No, Anira deserved to be put to rest by someone who understood her sacrifice, someone who knew exactly what kind of person she had been.

Sam found an isolated place where he could do his job. He decided to burn the locket together with Anira's hair. Drusella certainly did not want it back and Sam thought it would be safer for everyone in the long run. He placed the locket on the ground, ready to set fire to it.

He expected the air to become colder. He was not surprised when he felt that undeniable shift that told him a spirit was nearby. Anira had sensed what Sam was about to do. Ghosts usually did and they tried to do everything possible to prevent Hunters from sending them away. Sam braced himself, hoping there would not be an attack this time.

Anira materialised herself in front of him. Sam was first struck by how young she had been. Certainly too young to sacrifice herself like she had done. She was wearing elegant clothes with a lot of jewellery. Something in her face told clearly that she used to enjoy life – which made the tragedy of her death even more dreadful.

Sam inspected Anira warily. She did not look about to start throwing him against things. But it did not hurt to be cautious.

"I have to do this," he said, pointing to the locket. "You know it's for your own good."

Anira said nothing, but looked at him mournfully. In the end she bowed her head once in acceptance.

"Right," Sam said quickly. "You understand then. Great. Thanks."

He decided to set fire to the locket before Anira had a chance to change her mind.

"I had to come back," Anira said then, "They are making death in that place. I did not want to let them."

Sam frowned.

"In the warehouse, you mean?" he wanted to know. "So they really have weapons there."

"Terrible weapons," Anira confirmed. "They should not be allowed to do that. I do not want another family to go through what we suffered."

"I understand," Sam said quickly. "But it's not your concern anymore. You just…you go to your rest now. Let others deal with it."

Anira did not say anything, but still regarded every move Sam made. Sam felt slightly uncomfortable under that stare.

"I met your sister," he announced out of the blue. "She's…" But here he stopped, because Drusella was not exactly fine. She was not happy and she most certainly was not living the life her sister would have wanted for her. "She's alive," he added, settling for the truth. "And maybe one day she'll understand why you had to save her, even at your expense."

Anira did not say anything this time, though a flash of emotion appeared briefly in her cold eyes at the mention of Drusella. It died away quickly. Now she looked only tired, as if the fifty years of not finding rest had suddenly taken a toll on her. Wordlessly, she indicated to Sam to finish the job.

Sam finally set fire to the locket. He watched Anira's image fade and disappear in front of his eyes. He thought she looked grateful at the last moment, but he could not really tell.

It was over. Anira was gone. Sam had done Harper's job and now the other was bound to give him the information he required. Sam wanted nothing than to have that information delivered to Delenn, so that he could focus on getting Dean out. The job with Anira had made him miss his brother even more keenly.

 **AN Right, I know the whole amulet thing has been done to death and beyond, but what's one more time, eh? At least I'll have Sam put it to good use ;)**


	12. Chapter 12 The last day

**Chapter 12 The last day**

 **Next chapter. Thanks very much to those who show their interest in this story. I'm really glad you're enjoying it :)**

 **Purgatory**

After five long hours, Benny returned. By now, Dean was anxious that something had happened to him. But Benny looked all right, even if a little breathless, as if he had been running for a while. He also looked pleased with himself.

"All right, gents," he announced. "I bring good news and bad news."

"Do we want to know how you got it?" Dean asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Not really," Benny replied cheerfully. "Let's just say there's some rules all inhabitants of Purgatory have to follow. With the right price, you can get all the information you need and no one is allowed to refuse you. But never mind that. The news…"

"Tell us the good news, first," Castiel urged him. "That is how it usually happens."

But Dean shook his head.

"No, that's a crap way of doing things," he insisted. "Tell us the bad news first, Benny."

Benny looked from Castiel to Dean, slightly amused. He then decided to go with Dean's request.

"Bad news is, the rumours are mostly true," he reported. "If you use the alien portals, you can't get anything out, unless you throw yourself inside. Don't ask me why this is. I suppose the portals are already unstable and that's just a side effect."

"Save the scientific explanations for Sam, he'll love them," Dean interrupted impatiently. "What's the good news? Can we get out without Sam's help?"

Benny, however, shook his head.

"Sorry, brother," he said regretfully. "We still need topside help, if we want to get out. But there is good news, of a sort. See, there are three portals that are more stable than the others. Three you can use without having to make this exchange. Or, well, my source assumed there were three. One of them is kind of out of bounds."

"How out of bounds?" Dean wanted to know.

Out of bounds had never bothered Sam.

"Like Vorlon Homeworld out of bounds," Benny explained.

Dean did not look too pleased. No one could get near Vorlon space. Not that an idiot like Sam would not try.

"Where are the other two portals?" Castiel asked.

"One of them is on some deserted planet on the buttend of the galaxy," Benny said. "Z'ha'dum or something like that."

Dean rolled his eyes in exasperation.

"Isn't this just craptastic," he muttered.

Benny looked at him concerned.

"What's the matter?" he asked.

"Right," Dean said. "It was after your time. Let's just say the planet met with an accident. It got blown up. Hell knows how, but it ain't there anymore."

"The portal must be gone, too," Castiel said. "What about the third portal?"

"Yeah," Dean said quickly. "Please tell me the third portal isn't down a Black Hole or something like that."

Benny grinned.

"Actually, I think you'll like this one," he said. "The third portal is a few miles outside Tuzanor."

Dean frowned at the name. It did not mean a lot to him.

"And Tuzanor would be…where exactly?"

Benny snorted.

"Here you are having cosy little chats with Ambassador Delenn and you don't know Tuzanor's the capital city of Minbar," he said.

Dean glanced at Castiel. The Angel looked nervous, as he always did when there was mention of those who supposedly had belonged to the Vorlon (although, Dean suspected that, if Delenn had a say, her people would not belong to anyone but themselves).

"I say, won't your brother go to Tuzanor directly?" Benny asked. "Seeing he's already got friends in high places and all that?"

Dean, however, did not look too certain. He did not even know if Sam knew about the portal. And even if he did, as long as he had other options, Sam would use them first.

"The fact that he's got friends in high places worries me," Dean admitted. "You don't know Sammy like I do. He knows opening a door to Purgatory is always a risk. Unless he's got no other alternative, he's not going to try the Tuzanor portal. After all, if Delenn is truly helping him, he'd think it's disloyal or unfair to jeopardise her planet like this."

Of course, if the other portals were out of reach or did not work, Sam would go to Minbar. Loyalty to Delenn was not going to trump his determination to get Dean out.

"I assume you're not going to get this information to Sam," Castiel said.

Dean snorted, shaking his head.

"That's going to go over well," he muttered. " _By the way, Ambassador, Sammy's gotta go to your homeworld and open a door to Monsterland. There's no guarantee he won't let out some pretty nasty stuff, too, but you know how it is._ I think Delenn's gonna get me out of Purgatory herself just to have my head on a platter, if I suggest that."

"Might not be a bad idea then," Benny suggested lightly. "At least we'll get out here."

Dean did not answer. He looked deep in thought. He was chewing his lip, as if he was considering a plan, but did not know if he would really be able to execute it.

"Tell me something," he urged Benny, "This source of yours, when he mentioned the portal was a few miles outside Tuzanor, was he by any chance more specific?"

"He said something about a forest," Benny replied. "And about markings in Enochian, whatever that is."

"We know what that is," Castiel said darkly.

Dean nodded.

"Yes, and we'd recognise it, if we saw it," he said.

He looked at Benny and Castiel thoughtfully. Benny had provided him with a possible course of action. And, if he was given the opportunity, he was going to take it.

"I'm not going to let Sammy get stuck in here, trying to get us out," he said. "If this happens, I'm going straight to Minbar and opening that portal. And you two are going to help me."

Dean's tone was dark. Neither Benny nor Castiel tried to oppose him. They did not think he would care much if one of them refused to help. Castiel especially knew that tone. He knew also that Dean would not rest until he had both him and Sam back on safe ground – no matter the costs of such an action.

 **Bar on Colony 10**

That noon Sam entered the bar once more and settled to wait for Harper. The place was just as full in the daytime as it was during the evenings. It was a little quieter, though, as if the people did not start living over there until night time. The music that was playing was low, with nothing of the bombastic quality Sam had heard the evening before. Sam sat down at a table, once more scanning the crowd. Harper should be there soon.

As his eyes moved across the crowd, Sam saw the telepath once again. She was sitting at a table all alone, nursing a drink of what looked like cherry juice. She did not look as if she was waiting for a commission, just spending some free time between jobs.

Once again, Sam strove to remember where he had seen her before. He briefly wondered if he had not encountered her when he had been soulless and that was why he now had only vague memories of her. Then he dismissed the thought. Soulless him might have been a bit… _easy_ with his conquests, but he had also been all about survival. Surely he would not have involved himself with a telepath, especially not with a registered one, clearly operating within the Corps.

Then who was she? Why did Sam feel that he knew her or, at least, knew of her? What was it about her that made her so familiar? It was not as if he had a lot of encounters with people outside the hunting life ever since he had got back from Stanford.

Then it struck Sam. _Stanford._ A picture of a blonde woman, much younger than she was now, shown at a meeting. A confession about family lost. A talk about telepaths and how Psi Corps took them away from their families…He knew now who she was.

Without a thought, Sam got up promptly and went to sit at her table. She started, looked up at him and rolled her eyes.

"You must be really desperate, if you're trying to pick up a telepath," she commented.

"No," Sam said quickly, and he found out that his voice was shaking slightly. "No, wait…I know you."

She snorted.

"Sure you do," she commented. "That line actually works for you?"

Sam shook his head, still unable to articulate what he wanted to say. Because now that she was closer, he realised what he had missed when he had first seen her. She had Jess' eyes.

"Lillian," he said quickly, "You're Lillian Moore. You're Jessica Moore's sister."

At the mention of Jessica's name, Lillian stiffened. Her eyes narrowed.

"How did you know Jessica?" she asked. "Before being sent to Psi Corps, I knew all her friends. You I don't remember."

"That's because I knew her after you were caught by the Psi Corps," Sam replied. "We…we were very close."

Lillian frowned.

"Close as in you're the bloke who was with her when she died?" she shot. "Who somehow managed to escape a house on fire while Jess burned over there?"

Sam flinched as if he had been struck. He had known approaching Lillian was going to be a bad idea. He did not know why he had done it. What did he want, anyway? Absolution? He could not get absolution from someone who did not know the truth. And Jess had been targeted because of him. There was no way of turning that around.

"You weren't at the funeral," Sam blurted, before he even realised what he was saying. "I remember that. I didn't see you there."

Lillian's face was unreadable.

"I wasn't," she agreed. "The Corps thought it best for me not to go. I had put that life behind me years before. Coming back to it was unnecessary."

It was Sam's turn to frown.

"She was your sister," he pointed out. "She was blood."

Lillian scoffed. She sounded bitter.

"She was a Mundane, I was a Telepath," she reminded Sam. "In today's society, that matters a hell of a lot more than us being blood. It's not pretty – but it's the way life is. You can't do anything about it."

Sam looked at Lilian thoughtfully. Such words must have been fed to her when she first joined Psi Corps. By the looks of it, she now believed them completely.

"Jess wanted to fight for you, you know," Sam told her. "She was organising petitions to demand more rights to telepaths."

Lillian chuckled.

"Organising petitions against the Psi Corps!" she exclaimed. "That actually sounds like Jessie. She was like that, you know, head in the clouds, thinking if people made enough noise they would change the world. Quite silly…and admirable at the same time, I suppose."

Lilian no longer sounded bitter. As a matter of fact, her tone was slightly affectionate, and there was a fond smile on her lips. She took a sip of her drink, then looked at Sam.

"You know," she told Sam, "When I left for Psi Corps I envied Jess. I mean, I was going to be locked up and brainwashed and Jess was going to college, ready to do all the grand things we've promised to accomplish together since we were kids. She was going to live life to the fullest, while I was going to have all those restrictions pinned on me. And yet I'm the one who's alive today. Ironic, wouldn't you say?"

Sam did not answer. Lilian was not even interested in her answer. She got up. Sam did not make any move to follow her.

"You know," Lilian said, before leaving. "If you came here wanting to hear from me that there are no hard feelings – you came to the wrong place. You're right about one thing. Jessie was blood. And I still care about that enough to be angry with the person who walked out of that fire when she didn't."

Lilian walked away then. Sam remained where he was. He still did not know what he had been looking for – perhaps a way to clear his conscience of some guilt, now that he knew he was bound for Purgatory. But now he realised he would have to take his sins along with him.

After half an hour, Jacob Harper walked in. Sam took a relieved breath. For a moment he had been afraid Harper would not come.

Harper, in the meantime, scanned the room anxiously. He spotted Sam, but his anxiety did not decrease. If anything, he seemed more troubled. Sam could guess Harper was rather unwilling to be in his presence for too long. Sam smiled grimly. That was not really news. A lot of people were, apparently.

Harper made his way to the table and sat down heavily.

"You're late," Sam greeted him. "I'm on a tight schedule, you know."

Harper looked for a moment like he was about to ask Sam about that schedule. He changed his mind, though, most likely deciding he would be safer not knowing.

"Cut the pleasantries," he said sharply. "Tell me you've fixed the problem."

"Problem's fixed," Sam replied. "The spirit's gone."

Of course, Harper's problems were actually just starting. There was no way Sam was going to let that warehouse remain hidden, not when he could make his voice heard by the leadership of the Interstellar Alliance. He owed it to Anira to make sure that weapons warehouse was shut down, somehow.

"Now," Sam added. "I kept my end of the bargain. How about you keep yours."

Harper sighed heavily. For a moment Sam worried he would refuse to answer. In the end he seemed to decide he had no reasons for keeping this a secret. He probably also thought that it might help him in the long run – he could use the fact that he sort of helped the Alliance to his advantage, if he was ever in trouble.

"All right," Harper said resigned. "I'll tell you what that guy told me. Centauri."

Sam frowned puzzled.

"Say again?" he asked.

"Centauri," Harper repeated. "The smuggler told me the ship he was on was attacked by a Centauri vessel."

Sam rubbed a hand over his face tiredly.

"The Centauri are on the friggin' Advisory Board of the Alliance," he pointed out. "Why the hell would they attack Alliance ship?"

Harper shrugged his shoulders. It was clear he couldn't care less.

"Don't know, don't care," he stated. "That's what the guy told me and trust me, he wasn't lying. You know these aliens. Always at each other's throats for no reason. You can't make alliances with 'em. If you ask me, Sheridan's off his rocker and his Minbari mongrel is too, I'd say."

"Don't recall asking you for personal opinions," Sam interrupted. "And watch your tongue. I ight still chop it off on principle."

Harper scoffed.

"Quite ungrateful, aren't you, Sam?" he asked. He had nearly said Sammy, but remembering how Sam had reacted when he had called him that before, he decided not to risk it.

"Thanks for using my need for information to further your own agenda," Sam retorted. "Nice doing business with you."

Sam got up and left the bar. He had the information Delenn had asked him to retrieve. He was sure she was going to like it, though.

 **Motel, colony 10**

It was late afternoon. Sam was back in his motel room. He had managed to locate his Pak'ma'ra contact and gave him a data crystal with Harper's report – as well as a little information on Harper's own activities, for Sam's own peace of mind. Technically, Sam had done his job for Delenn. Which was good, as he had only two hours left before evening, when he went to get Dean out of Purgatory – and locked himself inside in the process.

Sam had also left word at the bar that if anyone matching Dean's description asked for him, he was supposed to be directed to Sam's motel room. Sam planned to leave a message there, explaining to Dean what he had done, that he had done it of his own free will and that he was never going to regret it. He hoped against hope that would be enough to stop Dean from doing something stupid in turn to rescue Sam.

In many ways, there was nothing for Sam to do, but wait for the right time to go open the portal. As far as he knew, he left no strings unturned. He had recorded his message to Dean and had also said a farewell of sorts to Jody when they parted on Mars. There was no one else Sam wanted to contact before going.

Except that there was. Sam knew he would not have gotten so far without Delenn's help. Who was he kidding? He would have probably made it as far as Proxima, but he would have never dealt with the Enphili and all that came after, without his Ranger cover. Sam knew he had tried his best to return the favour – but he thought that bit of information Delenn had asked him to retrieve in the first place was not enough.

His mind now made up, Sam went to the room's communication channel and dialled Babylon 5.

"It's Sam Winchester," he introduced himself quickly. "I need to speak to Ambassador Delenn, if possible."

The image switched to Delenn's quarters.

"Sam," she greeted, slightly puzzled that he was calling her. "I thought we agreed that you would send whatever news you have via currier. I assume it is far too sensitive to be put on a communication channel."

Sam nodded quickly.

"Yeah," he agreed, "It is. And the currier is right now en route to Babylon 5 with the report. There's also information there about an illegal weapons storage on the colony. I thought it might interest you."

Delenn looked impressed.

"You continue to amaze me," she declared. "You already have your own matters distracting you and yet you manage to uncover the information I requested and more besides. Thank you, Sam. You have proven yourself quite helpful."

Sam ducked his head, uncomfortable. He did not like the idea of Delenn thanking him. The purpose of his call was for him to express his gratitude to her, not the other way round. He cleared his throat.

"Yeah, good," he said quickly. "I was actually calling because…well, to be honest, not even the people who know about us would have been so willingly to help – as you were. And I appreciate that, more than you'll ever know. And I know that at the start of all this, you said me and Dean'll owe you a favour when it's all over. In case I can't give that to you, I hope my thanks will be enough."

Delenn frowned. The way Sam spoke, as if trying to say everything as quickly as possible made the discourse sound almost desperate. Not to mention the fact that Sam did not seem the type to call to deliver random thanks when he was expected back on Babylon 5 after his job was over.

"What are you going to do?" she asked bluntly.

Sam hesitated.

"What I set out to do, of course," he said, at length. "Get my brother out. I never thought it was going to be easy and I never thought it was going to be free. But I'm still willing to pay any price. And whatever Dean has to say about this is not going to stop me."

"Sam…" Delenn began reasonably, probably in an attempt to have Sam think things through before jumping into the fire, but Sam did not let her finish.

"With all due respect, Ambassador," he said, "But whatever you have to say is not going to stop me either. Sorry," he added, looking faintly apologetic. "As for the price I have to pay, that could be worse. Don't worry about me."

Delenn looked about to say something more. She was clearly frantically trying to find an argument that would have made Sam hesitate, perhaps postpone whatever he wanted to do until a better alternative could be found. But Sam did not have time to search for alternatives.

"That's all I've wanted to say, Ambassador," he said quickly. "Good bye."

He ended the call, not giving Delenn the chance to protest. He turned away from the console, trying to get rid of the thoughts in his mind. He could not help flashing back at one of the last times he had done something similar – when he had willingly planned to throw himself in Lucifer's Cage. But no, he told himself firmly. This would be different. In a twisted way, it would be better. And he was saving Dean, after all. That made it worth it.

 **Forest on Colony 10**

The sun was setting. It was getting dark. It was the right time for the portal to Purgatory to be opened.

Sam had located the place indicated to him by the Drazi priest. There was nothing for him now but to perform the ritual and hoped that it worked. He wanted to be certain that it would work. Even if he got sent to Purgatory himself, he only wanted one thing: to know that he had really and truly managed to get Dean out.

Sam had left all his personal effects – as few as those were – back at the motel. He supposed it would have been better if he got rid of them, but there was no time. He hoped Dean would not mind doing it for him.

The only things Sam had with him now was a knife and something that belonged to his brother. It was the amulet that he had given to Dean so very long ago, the one that Dean had thrown away, but Sam had decided to recover, the one that Drusella had accused Sam of clinging to. Well, it seemed that all those years of clinging to it were going to be worth it, if the amulet did the job of bringing Dean back. Sam could only hope that it would really work. Technically the amulet had not really been Dean's in a while. But perhaps it still had enough of Dean to draw him to it.

There was also the fact that Sam would not be getting only Dean out, but Castiel, too. Sam had nothing of Cas' with him, though. As far as he knew, the spell was designed to get out the owner of the object and whoever was with him at the time. So, if Dean and Cas were in the same place, they would both be able to get out.

Sam took out the amulet. He held it in his hand for a few minutes, running his finger over the quaint design. He rarely indulged in looking at it too much. Partly because he had always been wary of handling it when Dean was around. But mostly it was because his mind was usually so busy with other things, he often forgot he had the thing altogether.

"You'd better work," he told it firmly, clutching it in his hand. "You'd better bring him back, you hear me?"

Sam chuckled slightly, hearing himself. If he was starting to talk to inanimate objects, he was really losing it.

Without a second thought, Sam placed the amulet on the ground. He then took out his knife and made a small cut in his palm. Not too deep – it only had to be enough for him to shed a few drops of blood. Sam wondered what the point of a blood sacrifice was, if he was going to sacrifice himself anyway by changing places with Dean in Purgatory. But he was not the one who made the ritual, after all, so he could not really judge its twisted logic. He did not even care about its twisted logic much, as long as it actually worked.

Blood and amulet in place, Sam set out to perform the last part of the ritual. He had to speak the Enochain spell. He knew it by heart. He had spent most of his time on White Star 16 en route to Colony 10 learning it, since he had nothing else to do. He cleared his throat and began to speak.

As he was reciting, Sam was beginning to realise something was wrong. The world seemed to be changing in front of his eyes, the images shifting and trembling. The forest was beginning to lose its colour, the trees turning grey and dark. Sam did not know what was happening, but hoped this was actually part of the ritual. He started reciting the spell more confidently.

He was almost at the end, when he felt the ground shaking under his feet. For a moment, he faltered, afraid that he had been tricked, that he was not opening Purgatory but something much, much worse. He did not stop though. While there was a chance that this might actually get Dean out, he would not stop.

Sam had barely managed to say the last words of the spell when a bright light burst out from seemingly nowhere and the ground lurched hard beneath his feet. He thought he caught a glimpsed of Dean's panicked face, but he could not be sure. The next instant, he was surrounded by darkness, a darkness so complete that Sam started to fear he had skipped Purgatory altogether and sent himself back into the Cage.

 **Sorry for the cliffhanger, folks. I suppose this would be a bad time to mention that, as I'll be on the road a lot in the next few weeks, I won't be able to post the next chapter until the beginning of August. But I'll get it up on the site as soon as possible, I promise.**


	13. Chapter 13 The changing of the guards

**Chapter 13 Changing of the guards**

 **Hello there. I'm back. For a little while at least, as I'm going on leave in a bit and I'll be on the road for some time. But until then I thought I'd get this chapter up, and maybe another one too. Thanks for your continuing interest. Enjoy!**

 **Colony 10**

It all happened so fast, Dean hardly had enough time to process much. One moment he was in Purgatory with Cas, hiding from another wandering Soul Hunter, while Benny was away gathering firewood. Then the ground started shaking, and Dean was sure that had not happened before while they were there. Before he could ask Castiel if he knew what was going on, there was a bright light springing up from the ground. For a moment he saw Sam, or thought he did. Then the world got turned upside down and he found himself flung to the ground. He stood there dazed and panting, until he heard Castiel's frantic voice.

"Dean," the Angel was saying. "Dean, you have to see this."

Dean got up, groaning. He looked around him and, at first, he could not see what had gotten Cas so riled up. They had been in a forest then and they were in a forest now. But the more Dean looked, the more he realised they were not in the same forest. The forests of Purgatory had no colour. This one was dark because it was night outside – or almost night, there was still a flicker of light in the sky. And as Dean looked up at the sky, he saw stars appearing. He grinned at the sight, unable to help himself. There were no stars in Purgatory.

It was then that he realised the implication of all this. They were no longer in Purgatory. Sam had managed to get them out – or, at least, get him and Cas out, as Benny had not been there. But what had happened to Sam, afterwards? And where were they, anyway?

The place did not look too wild, only a little untamed. There were scratches on some of the trees where people had scribbled their names. From somewhere Dean could catch snatches of a rude song sung by what sounded to be a group of very drunk Centauri.

"If this is Minbar, then I'm John Sheridan's lovechild," Dean muttered.

Castiel had to agree with him.

"It appears that you were right," he concluded. "And Sam did not use the portal on Minbar, as he should have."

Dean shot Castiel an irritated look, not really in the mood to hear any criticism against the brother who had just cast himself into Purgatory for their sake.

"Look, maybe he didn't even know about the portal on Minbar," he pointed out. "Or that the opening this portal would cast him into Purgatory for that matter."

Somehow, Dean was not convinced. If Benny had been able to get such information for them in Purgatory, then Sam, being topside, surely had access to the same knowledge – if not more. By the faintly sceptical look on Castiel's face, he did not buy that, either.

"And yet it seems he knew enough to get us out," he commented.

Dean did not reply. Something drew his attention. There was something in the grass at his feet, an object that glimmered faintly in the starlight. An object that looked eerily familiar. He kneeled down to pick it up and found himself holding something he had never thought to see again.

It was his amulet. Or, at least, it _used to be_ his amulet. The figure was destroyed now, rent in two, probably by the force of the spell. It had a speck of red on it. Dean had no trouble recognising it as blood.

"Sammy," he said shaking his head. "What the hell did you do?"

He did not even know what he was referring to, if he was talking about the spell Sam had performed to get him and Cas out, or about the fact that Sam had the amulet in the first place. Sam had had the amulet for all these years, through all the things that they had been through together and had not mentioned it to Dean. Not once. Dean bit his lips, not knowing how to feel about that.

He got up, still clutching what remained of the amulet. He noticed Castiel watching him concerned, but he ignored him. He firmly told himself to get a grip. Now was not the time for sentimentalism. Now he had to act. Sam had got him out. And Dean was going to do the same. It was Dean's turn to rescue Sam.

"All right," he said confidently. "Here's the plan. First, we find out where we are and if Sam's left something behind. Knowing him, he's probably left a cringeworthy good-bye message somewhere. Then, you're going to take me to Minbar."

Castiel raised his eyebrows.

"I am?" he repeated.

Dean nodded fervently.

"Damn straight you are," he said sharply. "I need to get there fast. I haven't got time to wait for a ship, or go back to Babylon 5 and get mine. I don't want to leave Sam too long down there."

Castiel looked thoughtful.

"I have never been to Minbar before," he confessed. "You know how I feel about alien worlds."

"Get over it," Dean snapped. "We knew this might happen, after all. We talked about this and we agreed on this plan."

"Actually," Castiel felt the need to correct Dean, "You and Benny agreed. I did not say anything."

"Exactly," Dean said. "You agreed implicitly. Now let's get out of here."

Dean could only hope that Sam was okay – or as okay as one could be in Purgatory. He hoped Benny had remembered what they had talked about and had been on the lookout for Sam. At least, like this, his brother would not be alone.

 **Purgatory**

After the spell was performed, there followed a period of complete confusion for Sam. He knew that he had managed to accomplish something, although he could not really tell what or what sort of consequences that would have for him. He knew the ground was shaking, at that he was suddenly falling, and the memory of how he had fallen into Lucifer's Cage years ago almost made him sick. Then, he was flung on the ground, where he lay for a while, too dazed to move.

When he finally got his breath back, he began to realise that, wherever he was, at least he was alive. He opened his eyes and took in his surroundings, not really comprehending what he was seeing. He was in a forest. He was pretty sure it was not the forest on Colony 10, though. In fact, the place looked surreal, like something out of his nightmares. It lacked any kind of colour whatsoever. Was this it? Was this Purgatory? Had Sam actually succeeded?

Sam got up slowly. He had no idea what he was supposed to do now. All his plans had stopped at the moment he got Dean out. He had not cared about anything else, as if nothing would follow his expulsion to Purgatory. But he was still alive and he had to do something. Not get out – because he was sure he could never do that. But he had to organise some kind of plan for himself – some way in which he could live out the rest of his days.

If that really was Purgatory, it was a depressing place to spend the rest of one's life. Or one's afterlife, and Sam thought he understood why all the monsters he and Dean had hunted were so vicious. If that was what was waiting for them when they were killed, Sam was actually sorry for them.

"Oh well," Sam muttered in a fit of fatalistic resignation. "It could've been worse, I guess."

There was a rustling noise from behind him. Sam twisted round. Someone was there, in the forest, ready to pounce on him. Sam held his breath. He was going to find out exactly how much worse it could get.

 **Colony 10**

Dean and Castiel entered the main town of Colony 10. They still did not really know where they were, but by now Dean was able to figure out they were on a Centauri world, somewhere near Drazi space. That was enough for him. He did not really need to know the name of the planet. He would not be staying long anyway.

Dean knew how Sam operated. He knew that Sam could predict his own moves, too. He was sure Sam had guessed Dean would visit the bars for information about his brother. So Sam must have left a message at one of the bars.

He dragged Castiel to three such establishments until he found the right place. The bartender told him that, indeed, someone matching Sam's description had been there the past two evenings. He had left a message too.

"I presume you're Dean," the bartender said uncertainly. "I mean, you look like what he said Dean would look like."

Dean rolled his eyes.

"I'm Dean," he said, "What's the message?"

The bartender gave Dean the address to Sam's motel and his room number. Dean thanked the guy and left. As he was making his way towards the exit, he noticed a young guy casting him furtive glances. He was being very careful about it, but Dean was on the alert enough to know he was being studied. The guy was wearing a dark set of clothes, with a green jewel pinned on his shoulder. Sam had told him once that was the uniform of the Rangers. It was also, incidentally, the same clothes Sam had worn in his dream.

Dean stopped short, gaping at the young man, wondering whether there was any connection between him and Sam. For a moment, he was ready to approach him. Then he decided against it. He could be wrong. And it was quicker for him to go to Sam's former motel room.

Dean and Castiel left the bar. Castiel was looking slightly confused.

"I do not understand why we are going to the motel," he said. "You know you will not find Sam there."

Dean nodded.

"Course I won't," he said heavily. "But there is something there he meant me to see. Could be only a good-bye message that's gonna embarrass the hell out of both of us eventually – after all, you know Sammy."

"I think viewing this message now when your brother is lost in Purgatory will only make you upset," Castiel confessed.

Dean snorted. Upset was quite an understatement in this case. Still, Castiel was not far from the truth.

"Yeah, but I owe it to Sammy to see it," he pointed out. "Plus, that's not what I'm after."

"You think Sam left some of his research behind," Castiel guessed.

Dean nodded.

"Not deliberately, but yeah. We don't exactly know how to open this portal. We know only where it is. I'm hoping Sam will tell us the rest."

 **Purgatory**

Sam stood tense, ready for battle. He knew something was coming for him. Well-honed Hunter's instincts told him that. He wondered briefly if it was someone he knew, a monster he had killed, perhaps. He felt slightly amused by the thought. It did not matter who it was. It was going to attack Sam anyway.

Sam clutched his knife – the only weapon he had with him. He told himself there was no way he was going to go down without a fight.

His pursuer finally emerged from the woods. Sam gaped at him. He did not know what he had expected, but not this. He was looking at a man shorter than him who had a completely unthreatening stance. He was actually smiling at Sam and did not look at all surprised to see him there. On the contrary, it looked as if he had been expecting Sam all along.

"Sam Winchester, I presume," he greeted.

Sam did not relax. He clutched his knife tighter.

"Who the hell are you?" he demanded.

The other looked faintly amused by Sam's reception.

"Benny Laffitte at your service," he introduced himself. "Former surveyor of the Orion 7 Mining Project till a Vampire was kind enough to adopt me into his nest."

Sam frowned at that, a few seconds away from attacking, even if his adversary had taken a completely non-threatening stance.

"You're a vampire," he discovered.

"Not like I had much of a say in that matter but yeah, I am," Benny admitted. "I'm your welcome wagon."

Sam looked like he was one step from turning Benny into a piñata. Benny decided it was time to clarify where he stood.

"I'm here on behalf of your brother," he announced. "He and I have an understanding."

Sam snorted.

"You don't know Dean," he told Benny harshly. "If you've met my brother he'd have tried to carve you into little pieces."

"Actually, he did, at first," Benny confessed lightly. "Until I told him we were all much better off working together. See, I thought I could lead him and his Angel friend to a human portal and he'll be able to get all of us out. It sounded like a fair deal."

Sam had to admit that it did. And Dean would not have hesitated to take it. True, he would have probably had a backup plan concerning what to with the vampire when they got out of Purgatory, in case Benny gave any signs of not wanting to play nice along the way. But even though it all sounded logical, the fact still remained that it was not Benny who got Dean out.

"But I'm the one who managed to get Dean out of Purgatory," he pointed out. "And you're still here."

Benny nodded at that. He was still careful not to make sudden movements as Sam had yet to lower his knife. But Benny had been expecting that. He had been warned about Sam being antagonistic to him – until Benny managed to convince him he had his best interest at heart. He knew that was not going to be an easy feat.

" _Don't let anyone fool you," Dean had told him as they had been putting their plan in motion. "They all say I'm not the trusting type. But they don't know Sam like I do. He can be ten times more mistrustful than I, even if he doesn't always show it."_

Now Benny could see Dean had a point.

"I'm still here," Benny said. "Because: one, my portal apparently doesn't work anymore as Dean's already told your friend; two, we've found out that you rescuing us would mean you getting stuck in Purgatory; three, Dean has a way to get us out."

Sam shook his head.

"Dean can't get me out," he protested. "He'd only get himself stuck here again. I don't suppose he wants us to keep using that portal as a revolving door. We can't keep playing this game for ever."

"Maybe," Benny conceded. "But he ain't gonna get stuck again. There's a way to get us out of here. Trust me, Sam. Or, well, trust your brother."

Sam frowned. Briefly, he entertained the notion that this was only a ploy, a trick to get Sam to lower his guard by pretending to be a messenger from his brother. But Sam could see no point in such subterfuges, not in Purgatory. If Benny had wanted to attack him, he would have done it outright. Also, Benny knew too many details about Dean, about the message he had managed to send from Purgatory – he could not have known so much unless he had been with Dean.

Marginally Sam lowered his knife.

"Explain," he demanded.

His voice told Benny clearly that his well-being depended on the plausibility of his explanations. If Benny made one wrong move, if something from his story did not match, Sam would attack and damn the consequences.

Sam listened to Benny's account – the way they found out the portal did not work, how they found out they needed outside help, how further discoveries told them that anyone helping them from the outside was dooming themselves and finally, the list of three portals Benny got that were safe to use. He did not have to ask what Dean's next move topside would be. He would try to get Sam out. He would go to Tuzanor and open the portal there.

It should have been good news. Only Sam knew meddling with such portals was likely to come with its own price tag.

"Are you sure that portal's safe?" he demanded of Benny. "How do you know it won't kill Dean outright if he tried to open it?"

"Trust me, I had the same argument with your brother," Benny replied. "Even though the rumours say this place's as safe as it can be, all things considered, I warned Dean to think twice. He told me to keep my mouth shut."

Sam's lips twitched. That sounded poignantly like Dean – determined, and ready to turn the Galaxy inside out to get to Sam. Just as Sam had been when he had been searching for a way to rescue Dean.

Sam thought that if he looked at his and Dean's story from the outside, he would have found it moving, in a way, how the two of them could tear the fabric of the universe to keep each other safe. It was not so pretty for the people in their path, though.

"They all said we'd break the world," he muttered. "And she was the only one who refused to believe it. I think she still does."

Benny looked at Sam, confused. His stance was no longer threatening. He had lowered the knife altogether. He also seemed to have forgotten Benny was even there. Whatever he was talking about, Benny could not understand it one bit.

"Uh, don't mind me," Benny said, "But if you cared to mention some names, I'd be grateful."

Sam shook himself out of his thoughts at the sound of Benny's voice. He shrugged his shoulders.

"Might as well tell you," he said. "I'm sure you know some of it, anyway. We're the Winchesters and people – not just humans or monsters but aliens too, the ones that know of us – they all say we'll break down the world someday. They all think that. Except Delenn. She's heard the rumours – but she never really bought them. Even before she actually knew us, she didn't believe them. Although, I suppose opening a door to Purgatory smack in the middle of Minbar's capital city might make her reconsider her initial opinions."

"If it helps, the portal's not smack in the middle of Minbar's capital city," Benny informed Sam, "It's in the woods that are near it."

Sam snorted. He realised Benny had a way of acting that would have endeared him to Dean. Which explained why he would be so quick to form an alliance with a vampire. It did not explain why said vampire was still in Purgatory, though.

"How come you didn't escape with Dean and Cas?" Sam demanded. "I could have gotten you out without even knowing it, if you were with them."

"I wasn't," Benny said. "We talked it through, between the three of us. One of us had to remain behind, to tell you what Dean's up to on the surface and make you acquainted with the neighbourhood. Since I've been for so long one of the residents, we all agreed I was the best choice."

Sam frowned slightly.

"So," he began, "You're-what? My chaperone?"

Benny grinned.

"Actually, I very much prefer to call myself a guide," he declared. "But whatever goes. Now, can I trust you not to stab me? After all, I did go to a lot of trouble for your sake."

Sam put the knife away. He shrugged his shoulders. He was not completely willing to trust Benny – not as much as his brother seemed to have trusted him – but he agreed the vampire was his best bet in this unfamiliar environment. If Dean was really going to go through all that trouble to rescue him, Sam might as well do him the courtesy of remaining alive until then.

 **As you've probably noticed, I've decided to take a more rational approach to the Benny-Sam dynamic. I'm pretty sure that if Sam had met Benny under different circumstances, without the whole mess of season 8, he would have been much more open to the idea of working with him. I'm not having them best friends, though. I'm just putting them in a more tolerating mood towards each other.**


	14. Chapter 14 More delays

**Chapter** **14 More delays**

 **Well, I'm back, folks and I won't be going away anytime soon, so posting will be more regular from now on. Here's the next chapter. I hope you'll enjoy it and thanks for your patience while I've been away.**

 **Colony 10. Sam's room**

Dean and Cas reached the motel and headed to Sam's former room. Dean was the first to enter. The room was small to the point of being claustrophobic. It only had a bed, a video communicator and a small table. There was a duffel bag on the bed and a few papers were scattered haphazardly all over the table. But that was all.

"This looks depressing," Castiel observed.

"It looks exactly as I expected," Dean announced grimly.

Dean had barely finished his sentence when the communicator on the wall flashed.

"Voice recognition activated," the impersonal voice announced. "Message for Dean Winchester from Sam Winchester. Do you wish to play message?"

So this was it, the message Dean had expected. Granted, Dean had thought Sam would choose to write it down, maybe even on paper as he was quite an old-fashioned geek at times. But apparently, Sam had chosen this time to leave his message on the communicator.

"Yeah," Dean said. "Yeah, play the message."

He glanced at Castiel. The Angel looked worried, but also a little curious. He caught Dean's eye and nodded to him.

Sam's face appeared on the screen. Dean started. He wore the same clothes he had in Dean's dream, with the green jewel pinned on his shoulder. His eyes darted to and fro, barely looking at the screen, like they always did when he was nervous – or when he was about to do something he knew Dean was not going to like. He did not speak right away, but cleared his throat a few times, then finally, glanced at the screen.

" _Hey Dean,_ " he began, " _If you're seeing this message you're out of Purgatory – obviously – and I'm…well, if all the rumours I've been told are true, I'm down there myself."_ Here, Sam paused and cast another nervous look around the room, before resuming: " _All right, I hope you haven't thrown something at the screen yet. Look, I know you're pissed at me right now. But it was the only way to get you out. I had to do it. Don't go doing anything, either. If you try to get me out, you'll lock yourself in my place, and I'll have to get you out –_ _again_ _. So really, we can't keep going on like this._

" _There are some things I'd like to ask you though. You have to go to Babylon 5 anyway to get your ship. When you get there, check in with Delenn, would you? She helped me a lot in this one, Dean. She said she'd want to ask us for a favour when all this was over, though. I obviously can't grant any favours from where I'm now. But maybe you could – for me._

" _Also, I've got some papers in the room. One is a map of portals that led me to you, the others are translations. I won't destroy them yet, as I'm not sure the spell is going to work. But I promised I'll burn them as soon as I'm done with them. Since I'm not able to do it, could you see to it? Thanks."_

Here, Sam paused again. He looked like he had run out of words, which was a first, in Dean's opinion. He watched as Sam chewed his lip, looking around the room as if he could find something there that could help him. Finally, he spoke again, and this time he was making a visible effort to keep his eyes trained on the screen.

" _I hate to be doing this to you, Dean. I know we promised we'd stop with the sacrificing ourselves for each other. But I've got no choice. You don't deserve to be there. Uhhh…I suppose this is the part where I should thank you for…well, everything. But we don't do this kind of stuff, do we? So…you know, good-bye._

" _One last thing,"_ he added, taking the green brooch from his shoulder. " _I'll leave this here, with the papers. Give it back to Delenn. Tell her thanks for me, it was a great help. That's all I suppose. I'm really sorry. Good bye."_

The recording ended. Castiel looked at Dean concerned. Dean would not look back at him. His posture was tense. He was clearly wavering between anger and grief.

"Son of a bitch," he swore.

Without a word, he turned around and left the room, presumably to cool off.

 **Purgatory**

It took Benny only a little while to realise that, even if Sam was competent and alert, he was not completely on his game. As a matter of fact, he looked exhausted. Benny could guess at the reason. If Sam had been looking for a way to get Dean out all that time, he might not have rested too often.

"Don't take this the wrong way," Benny said at one point, "But when's the last time you've actually had some solid sleep?"

Sam cast Benny a questioning glance, then stood for a while considering the question.

"Well, I suppose it depends on how you define solid sleep," he said at length.

Benny snorted.

"That's what I thought," he said. "All right," he added firmly. "This is how it's gonna be. We're gonna find a safe place for the night, I'll take first watch and you'll sleep until you're rested."

Sam cast Benny an irritated look. He did not like being ordered around like that even when it was done by Dean. Having a complete stranger do so caused his frustration to rise to new levels.

"When did I give you the impression I'm willing to let you become the boss of me?" he demanded.

Benny rolled his eyes. So this was how it was going to be.

"Look," he began, reasonably, "You're in Purgatory. My turf, remember? And there are things lurking in the shadows that not even your Hunter imagination can dream of. You need to be 100% in this, if you want to survive. Even in the short time it's gonna take Dean to get us out of here. Even with me to help."

If there was something Sam hated more than having people order him around was having people telling him he could not handle something.

"Who said I wasn't 100%?" he commented. "You don't even know me. You don't even know what my 100% is."

"I know Dean Winchester's little brother would not have normally stumbled straight into that band of ghouls as you nearly did two hours ago," Benny pointed out. "You're still good, Sam, I'll grant you that. But to survive Purgatory even for a little while you need to be more than good. You need to be perfect. So, we're stopping and you're sleeping. That clear?"

"Did you try that line with Dean?" Sam wanted to know. "Because, I did too, a few times. It never worked."

"Actually, I'm starting to think that despite what everyone says, your brother's the more reasonable of you two," Benny declared bluntly.

Sam shook his head. He could still fight Benny on it, but there was no point beyond defending his pride. They did not have anywhere specific to be, after all. When Dean opened the portal, he would get them out from wherever they were in Purgatory.

"Fine," Sam said shrugging his shoulders. "You win. This time."

Benny shook his head. He hoped Dean would get to Minbar quickly and open the portal. He did not know how long he and Sam could last without killing each other on principle.

"Such a charming personality," he commented. "That what your Ambassador lady-friend sees in you?"

Sam cast Benny a withering glare.

"She's married," he stated flatly. "So whatever you've heard from Dean – he's completely delusional. Now, are you going to find that safe place to rest? I'm too tired to debate interspecies relationships with you."

Benny chuckled.

"See, I've got you to admit you were tired," he commented.

He was wise enough, though, to say it quietly, so that Sam would not hear him.

 **Colony 10**

Presently, Dean managed to calm himself, more or less. He returned to the room ten times more determined to get to the portal on Tuzanor and get all this over with. He wanted Sam out. Then, he was going to kill him – after he had a talk about priorities, sacrifices and doing what Dean asked for once in his life.

When he got back to the room, he found Castiel at the table, examining the green brooch he had found there. He raised his eyes when he saw Dean walking in.

"I believe this will work," he said, waving the brooch.

Dean frowned. Castiel had a way of talking in a cryptic manner on the best of days. But, as far as Dean was concerned, he was making no sense now.

"Right," he said. "How's it supposed to work, again? Throw me a bone here, would you, Cas?"

"I have looked over Sam's notes while you were gone," Castiel said. "There is a mention of a ritual to open the portal. It requires, among other things, an object belonging to the one you wish to get out of Purgatory."

That explained the amulet. Dean thought he could see a knowing look in Castiel's eyes and he deliberately ignored it. He did not want to talk about it.

"Will it work, though?" he asked, returning to practical matters. "I mean, you've heard Sam in the message. It's not really his. It's on loan."

Castiel looked thoughtfully at the brooch, running a finger over it. He was frowning in concentration.

"You are thinking in too narrow terms, Dean," he said. "If we are talking about current ownership, the amulet should not have worked, either. Technically, it was no longer yours the minute you discarded it."

Dean looked for a moment as if he was about to take a swing at Castiel for daring to phrase things in such a manner. But it was not as if the Angel had said anything that was not true. Dean knew he had given up the right to own the amulet long ago. Sam must have thought so, too, otherwise he would have given it back by then.

"So," Dean began clearing his throat and dismissing the thought, "If it's not about ownership in the real sense of the word, what's it about?"

"Sam wore this object," Castiel explained. "Something of him is still in it. I can feel it."

Without a word, Dean took the brooch from Castiel's hands. He held it in his palm, as if weighing it. He himself could not really feel anything, which was not surprising. He did not give it back to Cas, though, but closed his fist around it.

"You do know the amulet broke in two, right?" Dean pointed out.

Castiel nodded.

"I am assuming the force exerted by the ritual must be quite strong," he said. "Any object used would be destroyed – or badly damaged."

Well, better damage to the brooch than to Sam, Dean thought.

"Let's just hope it wasn't expensive," he joked.

He put the brooch in his pocket – where the pieces of his former amulet were. He strode to the table and took the papers and stuffed them in Sam's duffel bag. He then swung it over his shoulder and turned to Castiel. During all this, the Angel had been watching hi impassively.

"All right," Dean said. "Let's go."

Castiel's eyebrows rose.

"Go?" he repeated.

"Minbari Homeworld ring any bells?" Dean reminded him. "You're supposed to take me there. And don't start with me again."

Castiel sighed heavily. He seldom travelled to alien worlds. He had actually told Dean that – plenty of times. He had warned Dean that he had never once been to Minbar before. But Dean had shut him down, saying that if he could zap people back in time, he could damn well move him across space.

Shaking his head slightly at the way he sometimes let himself be led by Dean in this way, Castiel walked to where Dean was standing and placed his hand on his shoulder. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the Minbari Homeworld. For a second, he thought he might have got there. But when he opened his eyes, all he could see was the cramped motel room.

Dean made an impatient noise in his throat.

"Cas, why are we still here?" he demanded.

Castiel did not answer, because in truth, he did not know. He tried again, this time concentrating harder. He was an Angel, after all. He could traverse great distances anywhere in the universe. Space did not mean anything to the likes of him. He could go anywhere in an instant. It did not matter if he had not been there before.

Then why couldn't he get out of that room?The second attempt failed just as the first. A third attempt proved just as fruitless. By the time he tried the fourth time, he could already feel Dean about to explode.

"Anytime you want to actually get us out of here, Cas," Dean said tightly.

"You do not understand," Castiel said. "This should not be happening. We should not still be here."

"Damn right, we shouldn't be here," Dean agreed fervently. "We should be on Minbar. Trying to get Sam out."

Castiel shook his head. Dean still could not understand, apparently.

"We should be on Minbar," he agreed. "But for some reason I keep getting sent back here."

Dean backed slightly away from him. His eyes were dark.

"What do you mean?" he demanded.

Castiel sighed. He shook his head regretfully.

"I don't think I can get to Minbar, Dean," he admitted.

 **Colony 10. Bar**

Dean and Castiel were back at the bar. They abandoned the motel room, because Dean declared he did not want to stay there one moment more. He could not bear to be in the room where Sam had obviously made preparations for a one-way trip to Purgatory. And, even though Dean still intended to get him out, he realised it would have to be later than he had originally intended.

Dean needed a drink. He needed something to show him he was not in Purgatory anymore, something that would help him adjust to being back on the surface again. But more than anything, he needed an explanation as to why Cas, who could send people hundreds of years into the future, move from heaven to earth in the blink of an eye and yank people out of Hell itself could not manage a simple journey from one planet to another.

"Are you sure you're not just tired?" Dean asked for what had to be the tenth time. "I mean, Purgatory took a lot out of you. Maybe you just need to recharge your batteries and try again tomorrow."

Castiel sighed and shook his head. He had expected Dean to be pulling at straws like that. After all, Dean had never taken no for an answer when it came to the safety of his brother.

"I can say with relative certainty it is not me," Castiel announced. "I feel myself going, Dean. But when I think I am on Minbar, I get pushed back to where I started."

Dean took another swig of his brivari, wishing it would actually work.

"What do you mean you get pushed back?" he demanded. "This doesn't even make sense."

"Dean, if you paint certain symbols at the entrance of a room, I cannot get inside," Castiel pointed out. "You know that."

Dean made an irritated motion with his hand.

"Yeah, but that's only one room," he argued. "We're talking about a whole friggin' planet here. How can you ward an entire planet? Who warded it? How? Why?"

Castiel did not answer right away. He inspected Dean carefully. Dean looked wound up, tense and ready to go off at the smallest hint of a threat. Castiel had actually seen him jump a few times at louder noises. It was natural, Cas supposed, after Purgatory. It was hard to get one's instincts to wind down. Had Sam been there, Dean would have been considerably calmer. But Sam wasn't. He was still out of their reach and Castiel supposed that what irritated Dean the most was that he could not understand _why_.

"I told you before that we had an understanding with the Vorlons," Castiel reminded Dean.

Dean nodded impatiently, not really in the mood for a history lesson, especially not when Cas was repeating himself anyway.

"I know," he said quickly. "You've marked your territory. They weren't to mess with what is yours, you weren't to touch their toys. I think you had some nerve dividing the universe like that, but that's none of my business right now."

"The Vorlons did not always keep to this agreement," Castiel went on. "They went to Earth many times. They sometimes interfered with your species' development. I suppose one should be grateful that they always pretended to be us when they showed themselves to your people. Many accounts about Angels actually have to do with Vorlons."

Dean ran a weary hand over his face.

"Cas, I swear, if you picked now of all times to confess to me you're actually a Vorlon in disguise…" he muttered.

Castiel looked positively insulted at the hint. He shook his head quickly.

"What I am trying to say, Dean, is that maybe the Vorlons thought we would do the same. Maybe they thought we would influence their own people. I know some of my brothers would have been tempted. The Vorlons were a proud, arrogant race, Dean. They did not need us, so their followers did not need us, either. They wanted to make sure we could not have a negative effect on their influence."

Dean was beginning to understand what Castiel was trying to tell him. He did not like it one bit.

"So what did they do exactly?" he wanted to know. "Angel-proofed entire planets?"

"I know for a fact they warded their Homeworld against us entering their," Castiel explained. "That is not news, you would say. No one can enter Vorlon territory, after all. I do not think they warded all the planets under their influence. Only Minbar."

Dean snorted. If figured. Out of all the planets the Vorlons could make inaccessible to Angels, it had to be exactly the one Dean needed to reach. He supposed he should not be surprised. Hunters did not call it "Winchester Luck" for nothing. And Dean and Sam had not had it easy so far – why would things change now?

"How the hell do you Angel-proof a whole planet anyway?" Dean asked tiredly.

He immediately regretted the question when he saw that Castiel was actually seriously considering boring Dean with the answer.

"Well," Castiel began, "It is a rather complex process and difficult to explain. I could try to give you some mathematical representation…"

"Save it for Sam," Dean interrupted quickly. "He's gonna love this."

Dean paused. He kept having the unnerving feeling that he was being watched, that someone was listening in on their conversation. He looked around him, but the only one close enough to hear them was one lone Pak'ma'ra, nursing a mug of something foul-smelling. Dean shook his head. His stay in Purgatory had definitely came with some damaging effects, if Dean's instincts could mistake a Pak'ma'ra for a threat – or a spy. He turned to look at Castiel.

"I suppose I shall have to find another way to get to Minbar," he said at length.

Dean did not add that he was aware of what that entailed – he and Castiel would have to part ways. Castiel would not be there when Dean got Sam out – exactly when Dean would have needed the support of a friend the most. Dean would have to continue his quest alone. By the way Castiel was looking at him, it was clear he was thinking along the same lines – even though he seemed as unwilling as Dean to voice them.

"I will take you as close to Minbar as I can," Castiel said, then. "And I will wait while you find a ship to take you there."

Dean was immensely grateful for Castiel volunteering to help. And not only that, he would willingly wait with him until Dean could find something to take him to Minbar. It was good to know that his friend would be by his side for as long as he could.

"We'll do it this way, then," Dean decided gruffly. "Thanks, Cas."

"I assure you no thanks are necessary," Castiel replied. "I know you enough to be sure you would have done the same for me."

The declaration warmed Dean even more. It gave him a pleasant feeling of camaraderie, like a light in a chaotic world. He smiled slightly, raising his bottle of brivari, toasting Castiel.

Dean was vaguely aware of the Pak'ma'ra move away and head to another table where a man in a dark cloak and with the same green jewel Sam had left behind. Dean frowned, suspiciously, but then told himself to think no more of it. There were plenty of reasons why a Pak'ma'ra would approach a Ranger. Perhaps he had something to sell. Dean turned his attention back to Castiel, then. He did not notice the Ranger glance at him briefly.


	15. Chapter 15 Journey to Tuzannor

**Chapter 15 Journey to Tuzanor**

 **Sorry this chapter is a bit convoluted. Things have been ridiculously busy since I got back, so this was the best I could do. Enjoy.**

 **Trading point on the edge of Minbari space**

The planet Castiel had taken Dean was in many ways alike to Colony 10. It too stood on the border and its position at the entrance of Minbari space offered a number of trading opportunities. Many races could be seen there together, as was the usual way with those kinds of worlds. The shady feel of Colony 10 was missing, though. This was, after all, an outpost on the edge of Minbari space and not a disputed planet on the border of the Centauri Republic with the Drazi Freehold. There was a different mentality here.

Castiel brought Dean directly to the spaceport – small and empty, save for a few trading vessels and a small personal ship.

"This is as far as I can take you," Castiel said regretfully. "There is a planet closer to Mnibar, but that would not help you. It is empty of life and the lack of oxygen there would prove harmful to you."

"Yeah, thanks for that," Dean answered. "Don't worry, Cas. This is good. Now I only have to find transport. Some of these ships are bound to be going to Minbar. I mean, where else could they go?"

It turned out that, in fact, most of the trading ships were not going to Minbar. Two were coming from there and would not be returning until the following week. That was too long in Dean's mind. He could not accept it. Three were bound to the Drazi Homeworld, Narn, and Babylon 5, respectively. They would not be coming back too soon this way, either. The only trading vessel that was bound to Minbar would take three days to get there.

"Three days?" Dean repeated indignantly. "What the hell are you using to keep the thing flying, anyway? A friggin' steam engine?"

"Hey, man, deal with it," the captain of the ship – a trader from Orion 7 – snapped. "You know how it is these days."

Dean, however, shook his head.

"I don't," he snapped. "Why does it take you three friggin days to get to Minbar?"

"Raiders, man," the captain replied, shaking his head as if he thought Dean was out of his mind. "What rock have you been hiding under, if you don't know about attacks on Alliance ships?"

Dean raised his eyebrows. He must have missed a few things with his enforced stay in Purgatory.

"Alliance?" he repeated. "Earth Alliance, you mean?"

The captain gaped at Dean, wondering if this stranger was pulling his leg, or had actually escaped from some insane asylum.

"The Interstellar Alliance, dude," he corrected. "Seriously, how don't you know all this? It's all over ISN and Universe Today and every bloody bar in the known galaxy."

"We have been away on the rim for a very long time," Castiel intervened then. "But my friend needs to get to Minbar and would appreciated if you could take him there."

"And fast," Dean completed.

The captain shrugged his shoulders. The speed was out of his hands.

"I'm leaving tomorrow morning," he said. "Be here, if you want to come with me. But the journey will still take three days. Take it or leave it."

When Castiel and Dean were alone, Dean shook his head, feeling completely defeated.

"Feels like everything's been against us from the start," he confessed. "Not that it isn't situation normal with us, but this feels worse than before."

"I am sorry," Castiel said sincerely. "I wish I could find a way around whatever blocks Minbar from my entrance. What will you do now?"

Dean shrugged his shoulders. There was not much he could do.

"I suppose I'll have to take Captain Slower-than-an-asthmatic-grandmother up on his offer," he said dejectedly. "Three days is better than nothing at all. Unless…well, unless I get a better offer from somewhere else."

Dean's eyes fell on the personal vessel berthed there. It was a newer model than his _Impala_ , but Dean was sure he would be able to operate it.

"How do you feel about helping me steal a spaceship tonight?" he asked Castiel.

 **Babylon 5**

John Sheridan, president of the newly-formed Interstellar Alliance and former Captain of Babylon 5 – among other things – was notorious for walking into situations any sane person possessing even the weakest survival instinct would have avoided. Zha'd'um was a prime example. Then he had had every excuse, even a warning from the future, not to go to that place. He had still taken the risk and he could not say now that he regretted too much. Now, however, he thought Zha'd'um had been the easy part. He would rather face an entire Shadow fleet all alone than confront Delenn about the ship that had been docked on the station for quite some time now.

Despite mean-spirited people muttering words such as _henpecked_ and the like, Sheridan knew exactly where he stood with Delenn. Their relationship worked so well because from the beginning they had recognised they were, more or less, on an equal footing. They both granted the other the respect they deserved, knowing they were in turn respected. Nevertheless, Sheridan sometimes had the impression that Delenn could predict most of his moves – and yet Delenn could still be a complete mystery to him.

When, a few years ago, Delenn had shown such interest in Sam and Dean Winchester to the point of interfering on their behalf, Sheridan was, of course, intrigued. Initial questioning did not lead to much other than a vague promise from Delenn that she would tell him later. Considering all that came afterwards, Sheridan could not blame Delenn that she never addressed the topic of the Winchesters again. In fact, Sheridan had forgotten about them himself.

Since he was no longer captain of the station, he was no longer that in touch with all the comings and goings there. He was informed only about the important arrivals. If the Winchesters had been on the station, no one had told him. And he would have probably remained unaware, if, several days back, Captain Lockley had not mentioned in passing something about a small Earth transport whose docking fees were, apparently, paid by the Minbari embassy. Even then Sheridan had not read too much into it. He thought it could have been some Ranger on a covert mission that needed to use a transport ship instead of a White Star. Then Lockley mentioned the name of the ship – the _Impala_ – and Sheridan instantly knew who he was dealing with.

He did not tell Lockley anything – as far as he knew, the Winchesters could still be wanted on Earth and Sheridan knew Lockley. She would not have cared that there was no consistent evidence against then. She would see it as her right to bring them to serve justice on Earth. And whatever else Sheridan thought about the two, he knew it was better if they were kept free than locked up.

What Sheridan did do was to check whether the Winchesters were on the station now. His search came up empty. He then looked at the time the _Impala_ had arrived on the station. That had been weeks ago, during the Brakiri Day of the Dead. Sheridan shook his head. It figured that the Winchesters would be there during such a time.

He immediately requested a recording of all the entries from that day from Chief of Security Zack Allan. Zack complied without hesitation. This was something Sheridan appreciated at Zack. He was loyal and he usually did not ask too many questions.

Sheridan watched the video. He quickly identified Sam Winchester entering the station about the same time as everyone else was busy with Rebo and Zooty's reception. Sheridan had to congratulate Sam on his good timing. It had allowed him to enter almost unnoticed. What surprised Sheridan was that Dean was nowhere to be seen. He did not think the brothers had separated in the meantime. They were not the type to separate.

He paused the recording and searched Sam's face. He looked wrecked, like he was at the end of his rope and there was little helping him hold things together. Sheridan shook his head. Something must have happened. Something that had given Sam serious reason to return to Babylon 5. He did not think Sam would have broken his promise of staying away from the station otherwise.

Sheridan then searched the recordings for the time Sam left the station. He did not have to look far. Sam left the very next day. Not on his ship, but on a passenger liner bound for Proxima 3. Before his departure, Sam looked different. He held himself firm, now, as if he had found a new purpose with his visit on Babylon 5. And he was dressed in a Ranger's uniform.

It took a long time for Sheridan to digest that last bit of information. It was not that he was angry for not having been told. Delenn, after all, had free reign over the Rangers. It was her business who she recruited. If she wanted to make a Ranger out of Sam Winchester, there was nothing to stop her from doing so. What Sheridan could not understand was why. Why would she do that, and why would Sam even agree? And where was Dean Winchester in all this, anyway?

Sheridan stopped the recording, feeling determined. It was time to remind Delenn that she had once promised him more information on the Winchester business. And she was going to give that to him, starting with why Sam Winchester was apparently a Ranger now and why his ship was being docked on Babylon 5 – under the care of the Minbari government.

 **Planet near Minbari Space. Spaceport**

Dean and Castiel hung around the spaceport for the rest of that day, keeping themselves out of sight. They could not find the owner of the personal ship. Dean supposed he should feel sorry, leaving some poor sod stranded on a backwater planet like that. But he was desperate. He wanted to reach Minbar the very next day, if possible. He had already wasted enough time as it was.

At nightfall, he and Castiel snuck back into the spaceport. There was no one around. Dean suspected Cas had something to do with it. Dean headed straight for the personal ship. It was not the first time he was doing this. He and Sam had stolen personal ships before. He knew exactly how to get them to open – get past any defences the owner might have set in place. After opening the ship, he turned to Castiel, who was standing and watching him impassively.

"Time to go," he declared briskly. "I suppose you're not coming. At least until we get close to Minbar?"

In part, Dean would have liked to have Castiel with him as long as possible. He needed the support. But there was something telling him he had to go to Tuzanor alone. Sam had been alone when he was trying to open up Purgatory. Perhaps that was part of the deal. Perhaps that was how things were supposed to go, if Dean wanted to get Sam out.

Maybe Castiel could guess what was going on in Dean's mind. At any rate, he shook his head.

"I do not think I can," he said. "I do not know how close to the planet the barrier is. I do not know what will happen if I insist on approaching it. It might do me damage."

Dean nodded quickly.

"Yeah," he agreed. "Probably shouldn't risk it."

Dean paused. He did not know what else to say. He and Cas had fought and bled together while stuck in Purgatory. Whatever bond they shared, it had grown stronger. It was hard to say good-bye now, even if only temporarily.

"What are you going to do now?" Dean asked.

Castilel hesitated.

"Perhaps go back to Heaven," he said. "There are a lot of things I must fix there."

Dean raised his eyebrows. When he had opened the door to Purgatory the first time, Castiel had done plenty of unsavoury stuff to his kind – and to others, too, but Dean refused to think about that now. He had killed a lot of Angels. It was hard to believe that they would welcome him with open arms now.

"Are you sure that's wise, Cas?" Dean asked. "I mean, you've left a pretty big mess back there. They might not be willing to kiss and make up now."

Castiel sighed heavily. He knew what Dean was referring to. He could say that he was not worried, but that would have been a lie. And after Purgatory, he had secretly promised to himself never to lie to Dean again, if that was possible.

"It will be a painful meeting," he admitted. "But I did spend quite some time in Purgatory. And before that, there was the madness, when I tried to take away the image of Lucifer from your brother. Perhaps my kind will see this as penance enough. After all, we love a good redemption story."

Dean snorted.

"Yeah, right," he said sceptically. "Well, if all goes according to plan, Sam and I will be on Babylon 5 in a week or so. Since Kosh isn't there anymore, and assuming he hasn't angel-proofed the station as well, we'll call you and you can meet us there. How's that sound?"

Castiel hesitated. He would have liked to catch up with Sam and Dean, even on Babylon 5, but he wondered if things would ever truly be the same between the three of them. They had gone through plenty of near-misses, trying to save the world from their mistakes. Would they still be willing to work together after all that?

"Yes," he said curtly. "Yes, I will try to meet you there. Good luck, Dean. Bring Sam home."

A wide, confident grin appeared on Dean's face.

"Oh, you bet I will," he said determinedly.

He would see the world and himself burn before he left Sam in Purgatory.

 **Purgatory**

Benny let Sam sleep through the night. When they woke up they decided to move on. They did not have anywhere to be. If Dean opened the portal he would get Sam out from wherever in Purgatory he was. But Benny said it was better if they did not stay in one place for too long. Goodness knew what could get wind of them being there and try to attack them. Sam agreed.

Sam could not understand one thing, though. If Dean had found a portal that would get Sam out without putting Dean back in, why wasn't he opening it? Sam was sure Dean had his notes by now. He knew everything there was to know on how to open such portals. And Castiel could have taken him straight to Minbar. It should not have taken so long for Dean to get them out. Unless something had gone wrong.

Benny glanced at Sam, watching him fidget.

"You're worried about Dean," he deduced.

Sam snorted.

"I'm always worried about Dean," he declared. "It's not something I can control anymore."

Benny snickered.

"Funny," he commented. "That is exactly what Dean said about you."

Sam ignored the last comment.

"What do you think happened?" he asked. "What's taking them so long?"

Benny shrugged his shoulders. A lot of things could have gone wrong. The information he had been given might be false, for one thing. The portal could have been locked in the meantime. Dean could have been discovered by the Minbari trying to open a door to a place that was surely beyond their comprehension. He did not want to voice any of these ideas aloud, though.

"He'll get us out, Sam," was all he said. "We just have to be patient."

"So you think he's all right?" Sam insisted.

Of course he was probably aware they could not know for sure. But he was desperate enough to seek some verbal confirmation, even from Benny.

"I know that brother of yours is going to do his damnedest to get you out of here," Benny said in the end. "We should try to hold on to that."

Sam did not say anything. He looked up at sky, as if expecting the portal to appear at any moment. But the sky remained empty and unchanged.

 **En route to Minbar**

In hindsight, Dean supposed it would have been better to wait for the trading ship. The ship he had stolen was, in his opinion, no better than a rustbucket. It was a newer model than the _Impala_ , but it felt worn to Dean and hard to manoeuvre. Or maybe he was feeling these things because this was not his own ship. He missed the _Impala_ more than he could say.

The ship was serving its purpose, though. It was speeding towards Minbar, even if Dean did not know whether it would be capable of making another journey after it got there. He and Sam might have to take another mode of transport to Babylon 5. But that did not matter. After he got Sam and Benny out, there would be plenty of time to think about how they were going to get to Babylon 5. There would be plenty of time for everything after that.

Dean fiddled with the controls, making the ship go even faster. He thought about what the captain of the trading ship had said – something about raiders and a new alliance, the Interstellar Alliance, he called it. Dean would have to ask Sam's opinion on that. It seemed he had missed on a lot since he had been sent to Purgatory. Time had passed him by. He was not even sure how much time, yet.

The journey was completed in record time. Before Dean knew, he was steering his ship towards Minbar. He had managed to look at a few maps before leaving and with their help he found a small air-strip near Tuzannor. It was as close to his destination as he was ever going to get. Dean landed his ship and got out. This was it, he told himself. This was the final stages of his journey.

It was early morning on Minbar. Sam's notes stated clearly that the portal had fewer chances to work well in day time. Dean would have to wait until evening came. He only hoped Sam could hold on until then.

As he was leaving the airstrip and setting out into the streets of Tuzannor, Dean could not help looking around. He had never been to Minbar before. It was certainly different than anything he had seen. Sammy was bound to like it, he thought. It was the kind of place Sammy took to.

The streets were more or less empty. The few Minbari that passed Dean did not look twice at him. Dean found that odd at first. He had not thought humans were that common an occurrence on Minbar. But, then again, he knew what was being said about the Minbari. They did not like to show curiosity about outsiders – or, at least, some of them didn't.

As Dean was rounding a corner, he suddenly came face to face with a newcomer. Not a Minbari this time, but a human, just like him. He was wearing the same uniform Dean had seen Sam wear – the same one as the man that had been watching him and Cas on Colony 10. He was perhaps a few years younger than Sam and he looked vaguely familiar. Dean was about to pass him, when the newcomer stopped him.

"Dean Winchester, I presume," he greeted calmly.

Dean stiffened.

"Who the hell are you?" he demanded.

"Ranger Ralph Wilson," the other introduced himself. "We got wind you were coming here and I was sent to meet you. You and I have a lot to talk about, Dean."


	16. Chapter 16 We are who we are

**C** **hapter 16 We are who we are**

 **This chapter turned out longer than I intended, but it did not feel right to break it in two.** **Thanks very much for your continued interest in this story. It makes me quite happy :). Enjoy!**

 **I own nothing but a few original characters.**

 **Minbar**

For a moment Dean stood unmoving, glaring at the newcomer. The Ranger made no threatening move and was not pointing any weapons at him. Dean had no illusions, though. When somebody said they had been looking for him – especially someone in a position of authority – that was the time for Dean to run. Dean could not run now, not in a place completely unfamiliar to him, where the Ranger would have the upper hand.

"I haven't a friggin clue who you're supposed to be," Dean snapped.

Ralph smiled slightly.

"You do actually," he said. "You just don't remember. Sam didn't either. Although, I can't say I blame either of you. I was quite young when you saw me last."

Dean remained unmoved. Even the fact that Ralph had seen Sam recently did not impress him. He already knew that Sam had been getting help from the Rangers.

"Talk," Dean said. "Tell me who you really are and then I'll decide if I trust you."

Ralph raised his eyebrows but did not look too offended by Dean's icy manner. If anything, he looked as if he had been expecting it. It gave some bearing to his claim to knowing the Winchesters – or, at least, knowing _of_ them.

"You might not remember my name," Ralph said. "But I think you remember Phill Wilson. Don't you?"

Dean frowned slightly. He could put a face to that name. Phill Wilson had been an acquaintance of his father's – he would not go as far as to call him a friend; his father had had very few of those, even among his occasional hunting partners. Phill Wilson was one of the few surviving Hunters from John Winchester's generation.

Dean remembered him well. Phill had entered the game when his wife had been killed by a werewolf. He had a young son and he was teaching him the hunting life just as John Winchester was doing to his sons. From what Dean could remember, the kid had been one or two years younger than Sam. And suddenly, Dean knew the person standing in front of him.

"Ralph Wilson?" he repeated incredulously. "You're little Ralph?"

It was hardly fair to call Ralph little now. He was taller than Dean – nearly as tall as Sam. Dean was surprised to see him there. Phill Wilson never explained why his son had suddenly stopped accompanying him on hunting trips. Dean had always assumed something had happened to him.

"Last time we saw you, you were about ten," Dean remembered. "Then you just vanished. Your father never talked about you," he said. "We thought you'd died."

Ralph chuckled.

"Not really," he said. "Actually, my mom's family managed to find dad. Long story short, they reached a sort of compromise. My grandparents got to raise me on the condition that I met my dad from time to time. Dad never liked it, but at least he got to see me once in a while. He made sure I didn't forget what was out there. He kept me informed about the hunting world. He had a lot of stuff to say about you and Sam. Apparently, you were at the centre of some pretty weird crap."

That explained why Ralph knew so many things about them. It did not really make Dean trust him more. He had liked Ralph as a kid – as much as he could remember about him anyway. He did not know what to make of the adult Ralph who was standing on the Minbari Homeworld, apparently working for them. Not to mention the fact that most likely Ralph was there to stop Dean.

"All right, that settles who you are," Dean said. "What do you want with me?"

Ralph, however, did not answer right away.

"Not here," he said quickly. "I'll take you somewhere more private, then we'll talk."

Dean would not move from where he was.

"What's the use?" he asked uncompromisingly. "You're here to stop me, right?"

Ralph looked amused.

"Dean, I know you, remember?" he pointed out. "I know I've got as much chances of stopping you when it comes to Sam as I have of marrying a Vorlon. But the others don't know that. What I want to do is make sure your actions will have no unpleasant consequences – for any of us."

"You want a lot," Dean said.

"Perhaps," Ralph conceded calmly. "Or maybe not. Either way, come with me. I give you my word I'm not leading you into a trap."

Dean eyed Ralph suspiciously. He knew he had no choice, he had to go with him. He decided to do as he was told for now. If things got unpleasant for him, he would retaliate then.

"All right," he said calmly. "Lead the way."

 **Babylon 5**

That evening after dinner, Sheridan decided he might as well tackle the Winchester case. They were in Delenn's quarters – a thing which vexed Sheridan a bit, he would have preferred to have this conversation on his own territory. But it could not be helped.

"Whatever it is you feel you have to say, I think you should say it and be done with it. You will feel better, afterwards."

Sheridan looked up, startled. He had fallen deep in thought for a few moments, wondering how best to approach the subject. Delenn must have no doubt noticed him fidgeting. Like always, she had read him correctly. He laughed, shaking his head.

"You really know me too well," he commented, slightly amused.

Delenn smiled brightly.

"You allow yourself to be known by me," she pointed out. "Now, you look troubled. Is there something I can help you with?"

Sheridan's face grew grave.

"There is, actually," he began. "You know I don't usually enjoy prying into your own affairs and you have full latitude with the Rangers. You can recruit whoever you want and the way you command them is up to you, after all, you were chosen to lead them and you've led them well so far."

Delenn tilted her head.

"Where are you going with this, John?" she interrupted.

Sheridan sighed. She was not going to allow him to be diplomatic about this, then.

"Sam Winchester," he said quickly, deciding he might as well forego any other introductions. "You've apparently inducted him into the Rangers. I think I was able to track his movements a bit, too. He's the one who found out about Clark's informer on Proxima? And who uncovered further evidence the Centauri are attacking the shipping lines? And about that weapons warehouse on Colony 10?"

If Delenn was in any way surprised to be discovered, she did not let it show. She appeared completely unfazed.

"Sam did uncover some information in return for a few favours," she admitted. "Although I have never asked him to search for illegal weapons on Colony 10. That was all him. If anything, you have to admit he is competent."

Sheridan raised his eyebrows.

"Competent enough for you to pay his ship's docking fees _and_ have him pass as a Ranger?" he quipped.

"He came here asking for my help," Delenn explained bluntly. "I gave it to him."

Sheridan snorted.

"I say," he muttered. "That's quite a lot of help to be giving to someone you barely know."

Delenn gave him a scathing look.

"Minbari are taught to help those in need by any means necessary," she said sharply. "No matter who they are. No matter how well we might know them. Familiarity is not required for the exercise of compassion, either, John."

The last words were an allusion to something Delenn had told him years ago, during the outbreak of plague that had exterminated the Markabs. Panicked beyond reason when Delenn had come to him with the request to be allowed to help the Markabs, Sheridan had told her without thinking that they were not her own people. Delenn had been rightfully angry and had retorted that similarity was not required for the exercise of compassion. Strange, Sheridan thought, that had taken place not long after they had first met the Winchesters.

Sheridan knew Delenn had a point. He also knew that Delenn was always bent on doing the right thing. He remembered something else that she had said a while ago, that her cause was life itself – one life or a billion, it did not matter. He really should not be surprised that she had agreed to help Sam Winchester – whatever it was he had asked for. And, at any rate, it appeared that Sam was willing to return the favour. Sheridan could not deny that the information brought by him had been quite valuable for the Alliance.

"What I don't understand," he said, deciding to take a different approach. "Is why you didn't tell me. That ship has been on Babylon 5 for weeks now and I didn't even know about it until Lockley mentioned it to me. Is there any reason why I was kept in the dark about this?"

"You were busy with other matters," Delenn pointed out. " _I_ was busy with other matters."

Sheridan raised his eyebrows.

"You've been very careful not to tell me who our informant on Colony 10 was," he pointed out. "Why keep this from me?"

"I had my reasons," Delenn replied. "Besides, if we start this game of which of us kept things from the other - are you sure you'd be at an advantage, John?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sheridan asked frowning him.

"Captain Lockley," Delenn said bluntly. "You never told me the truth about her until I asked."

"That's something entirely different!" Sheridan exclaimed, in an attempt to keep control of the conbversation.

Delenn nodded.

"True," she agreed, calmly. "I was never married to Sam Winchester. You were married to Elizabeth Lockley."

Sheridan shook his head. Delenn had a way of making him feel completely sheepish at times, and he did not know why he still let her. He should have known his little slip about Lockley would come back to haunt him. He should have remembered that before confronting Delenn about any secrets she supposedly kept from him.

"Were you ever going to tell me?" he wanted to know.

Delenn nodded quickly.

"I was," she said firmly, as if there was to be no doubt about it. "Only…not just yet."

Sheridan looked puzzled.

"If not yet, then when?" he demanded.

"Soon," Delenn told him. "I expect it will all be over soon, anyway. One way or another."

Sheridan looked up. Delenn sounded troubled – like there was something about this business that was not going well – or, at least, not to her liking. He could not help himself. He had to ask.

"Do you need me to do anything about this?" he offered. "If there is anything that I can do to help, you know I gladly will."

Somewhere deep inside, Sheridan thought the situation was rather amusing. He had come prepared to confront Delenn about the Winchesters, not to offer his help concerning them. But, then again, why was he surprised anymore? Perhaps word on the station was right – he did give in far too easily when it came to Delenn. He would defy anyone who said it was not worth it, though.

Delenn looked deeply touched by his offer. However, she shook her head.

"It is kind of you to offer," she said. "But I do not think there is much you can do. There is not much either of us can do, now. I am afraid the Winchesters must stand alone."

Sheridan looked quizzically at her. It was clear he wanted to know. But they had reached a point where he would not push any further, not unless she wanted him to tell him more. And Delenn decided not to tell him anything yet.

Delenn, in the meantime, wondered why she did not share the rest with John. She could have told him about Sam's last conversation with her, about the fact that she did not even know if Sam was alive at that point. She could have told him about the reports she had got about Dean – about how people thought he was about to do something damaging on Minbar – and that she had agreed to follow some reckless plan suggested by one of her Rangers to help him, instead of doing the rational thing and stopping him.

 **Minbar**

Ralph led Dean towards a large building. To Dean's surprise, it was empty, although he could hear the sound of a commotion further inside. Ralph was unfazed by the noise. He quickly led Dean to an empty room. It was wide and there was not much furniture in it. From the little there was there, Dean had to assume it had the makings of some sort of council chamber.

"We won't be bothered here," Ralph said confidently. "They've got plenty of other rooms to set up before they move to this one."

"Where exactly am I?" Dean asked.

"These are the future headquarters for the Interstellar Alliance," Ralph announced proudly. "We are now standing in what's going to be the Council Chamber where the Advisory Board and the President will hold their deliberations regarding the running of the Alliance. Any consultation with Alliance member worlds will be held here as well."

Dean raised his eyebrows.

"Do they pay you to give this presentation to every suspicious individual you come across?" he demanded. "Anyway, I haven't got the faintest idea what you're talking about. I've been a bit cut off from current events, if you get my meaning."

Ralph grinned.

"Yeah, I get it," he said. "Reception sucks in Purgatory, I'm guessing. Can't get ISN there."

Dean frowned. His suspicions grew. Ralph knew too much. There was no way Sam would have talked to Ralph about Purgatory, especially since Sam did not know Ralph was a Hunter's kid. Although, even if Sam had known who Ralph was, it was highly unlikely he would have been more forthcoming. Phill Wilson was not exactly on Sam and Dean's good list. For a very long while Phill Wilson had believed the rumours started by Gordon Walker and his deluded followers that there was something demonic about Sam. It had stopped in the year after Sam went to Hell, when Bobby had given Phill a piece of his mind – and a few bruises, too, Dean suspected – and made him realise that even if Sam had made mistakes, he had suffered for them more than enough. Lately Phill tolerated Sam. But that did not mean that Sam would have trusted him – or his son.

"Sam didn't tell you about Purgatory," Dean said harshly.

To his surprise, Ralph did not deny it.

"Of course he did not," he admitted calmly. "Like I said, he did not know me and I know how mistrustful you two can be – with good reason I suppose. No, I found out about Purgatory all by myself. It wasn't that hard to deduce."

Dean snorted.

"No kidding, Sherlock," he said sarcastically. "And how did you manage that?"

Ralph sighed heavily, leaning his head wearily against the wall. Apparently, he was not going to gain Dean's trust, unless he told him everything.

"You were less paranoid when you were fourteen," he commented.

"I've seen some things since then," Dean pointed out. "I've been places. They can change a guy."

Ralph's features darkened slightly. A look of pain flashed quickly on his face.

"Yeah," he said hoarsely. "I know."

Dean looked at Ralph closely. It hit him then that the younger man had the same world-weary look he had seen in Sam and in himself as well. Ralph was hiding it, but it was there all right, the memory of fresh sorrows, of too many unfair things and far too many losses to count. Ralph had gotten out of the hunting life early enough, but he had not gotten out of fighting evil. He just did it on a different level. It was clear to Dean that whatever his work as a Ranger entailed, a lot of it must not have been pretty.

Ralph seemed to realise that his mind was about to go into dangerous territory that was best left forgotten. He mentally shook himself and tried to get a grip of his emotions. When he looked back at Dean, he was confident once more.

"Sam did not tell me anything about Purgatory," he repeated. "But he did mention a few things to Entil'zha Delenn. As did you. She passed these things on to me since she was aware of my…background."

Dean looked sceptical.

"You go around telling a lot of people your old man kills monsters for a living?" he asked mildly.

"Only the ones I pledge to live and die for," Ralph quipped.

Normally, Dean would have had something deeply sarcastic to say about such mindless devotion. Apart from Sam, he did not think there was really anyone else he would have "lived and died for" as Ralph put it. And, anyway, Sam was different. Sam was his responsibility, not a cause to follow.

Dean kept his scathing comments to himself, though. There was something in Ralph's voice that told of a different sentiment than the ones usually broadcasted by the common fanatics Dean had encountered so far. Ralph believed he had found a leader worth following and a cause that was not only to die for – it was also to live for. If Dean was honest with himself, he would have to admit he was somewhat jealous. Even when he had been working for the Angels to stop Lilith, he had often felt more uncomfortable than inspired.

"I did some research," Ralph went on. "I tracked Sam's movements – not a difficult task, since he was not keeping them a secret from the Rangers. He needed the White Stars to know where he was – I talked to a few of my contacts in the Hunting community who told me the latest rumours about what you had been up to before you disappeared. And, well, I was able to put two and two together. I figured out Sam was trying to open a door to Purgatory to get you out. A few aliens say such doors exist, but opening them means you have to cast yourself into Purgatory most of the time. Except for a few select places – like Minbar, apparently."

"You're good at research, I give you that," Dean commented. "Almost as good as Sam. But that doesn't explain how you knew Sam had got me out or that I was coming to Minbar."

Ralph smiled slightly at the compliment. He remembered when he was ten years old and he thought Hunting was everything he had developed quite the hero worship for the Winchester brothers. He would have given a lot for a compliment from them at the time. As a matter of fact, this made explaining his steps to Dean in detail quite enjoyable.

"The first thing that alerted us was when Sam contacted Delenn from Colony 10," he explained. "He didn't say much, only what could be translated as _thank you for your help and I'm not going to be coming back_."

"Typical Sammy," Dean commented.

"Anyway," Ralph went on, "From this we inferred he was close to getting you out. Knowing you, I was sure that as soon as you were out the first thing you would do was to try and rescue _him_. We had Colony 10 watched and that was how we knew you were coming to Minbar. And that transport ship, by the way, was set there especially for you. I knew you'd steal it."

Dean did not know whether to be impressed or irritated. He had thought he had been careful. Instead, his every move had been watched and even influenced. The idea made him want to throw punches at Ralph.

"All right, I know your guys saw me on this Colony 10," Dean said. "But how the hell did you get that I was coming here? I knew the Rangers were watching me. I was careful not to say anything when they were within earshot."

Ralph chuckled. He looked incredibly pleased with himself. Dean closed his eyes and told himself he did not know Ralph was the enemy yet, so attacking him out of annoyance might not be constructive. Anyway, he supposed it might not be wise to beat one of Delenn's Rangers senseless while she was still holding his ship hostage.

"You were in a bar talking to your…uhhh…Angel friend," Ralph began, rolling his eyes slightly at the way the sentence sounded, "Are you sure there was nobody within earshot?"

Dean shrugged his shoulders.

"No one that mattered," he said. "I checked. Well, there was a Pak'ma'ra, but they don't really count, do they?"

If anything, Ralph looked even more smug than before.

"A Pak'ma'ra, you say?" he asked innocently.

Dean's eyes widened in comprehension.

"A Pak'ma'ra?" he repeated. "You used a friggin' Pak'ma'ra to spy on me? Dude, that's…that's…Actually, that's friggin' ingenious."

Ralph had the courtesy to look modest.

"Well, it's not really my idea," he said. "But yeah, it worked quite well with you, didn't it?"

Dean shook his head.

"Man, a Pak'ma'ra?" he repeated. "Nothing's safe from you people, is it?"

His face grew grave. His plans had been exposed even before he had set foot on the planet. He supposed it was a good thing they did not just shoot him out of the sky before he landed. Perhaps Ralph had a part to play in that – as well as Delenn. But Dean had no illusions. If he proved to be a threat to Minbar, no one would be lenient with him.

"You know I have to get Sam out," he told Ralph. "You know I won't allow myself to be stopped. I'll fight whoever tries to stop me."

"And you're willing to break the world," Ralph completed. " _Again_. You Winchesters never learn, do you?"

"We can't help it," Dean pointed out. "It's who we are. The universe gave us crappy cards from the start – we were the vessels of the friggin Apocalypse, man. But at least it gave us each other. And I don't think any of you has the right to judge me if I'm willing to hold on to the little that I have."

Ralph shook his head thoughtfully. He did not look like he wanted to judge Dean. In many ways, he looked like he understood.

"I know," he said calmly. "That is why I won't stop you. But you have to listen to me. I think there is a way to open the portal and keep the damage to Minbar minimal. You're going to have to trust me and…well, not only me."

Dean frowned.

"What are you talking about?" he demanded.

Ralph looked suddenly uncomfortable.

"There are some people I'd like you to meet," he said. "Some Minbari. They…well, they're not exactly human-friendly, but they've agreed to help once I explained the situation."

Dean raised his eyebrows. He did not like where Ralph was going. Despite his previous experiences with Delenn, he still did not completely trust the Minbari. And the fact that these Minbari did not like humans, from what Ralph had hinted, did not make Dean feel any better about the situations.

"Every portal must have its guardians," Ralph explained. "These Minbari are a secret known only to a few of the Religious Caste – and to some Rangers. Many believe the work they do is more symbolic than anything as not a lot of people believe in portals to the underworld. But they think they might be able to help you open the portal safely and make sure nothing unwanted gets out while you're trying to rescue Sam."

Dean did not really like the idea. He would have very much preferred to open the portal on his own. He was sure that, if things got out of hand, the Minbari would put a stop to his rescue attempts and then where would he be?

"You're going out of your way to help what you've gotta consider a pretty reckless plan," Dean observed. "Why? What's your game?"

Ralph looked thoughtful. He seemed to be pondering Dean's words, as if he did not really know the reason why he was willing to help.

"If you've fallen of a cliff," he said slowly, "You might as well learn how to fly."

He sounded as if he had quoted someone. Dean looked vaguely confused.

"The hell is that supposed to mean?" he demanded.

Ralph smiled slightly.

"It's something Entil'zha Delenn said once," he told Dean. "You know when Sheridan was thought dead at Zh'a'dum. Delenn stood in front of the Rangers and told us we were going to attack the place. Just like that, she wanted us to go against what no one had managed to fight before. I've seen desperation before, Dean. It can lead you to break the world. It can also lead you to save it."

With that, Ralph straightened up. He did not wait for Dean to give any reply. He only motioned to him to follow and left the room. He did not look back once. He already knew Dean would be coming with him.

 **Purgatory**

The greyness of Purgatory was beginning to get to Sam. The constant feeling of being watched and followed made things even worse. He thought he was going to lose his mind. He could not imagine how Dean had dealt with all of it. But the thought of Dean made him wish even more that he could get out of there soon. Dean had spent much more time in Purgatory than him. The place surely had left its mark on him. Sam had no idea how Dean was coping now that he was back on the surface, but he surely needed someone to make the transition easier – someone who truly understood him. Sam had to get out of Purgatory – for Dean's sake if not for his own.

Sam had mentioned nothing of this to Benny. During the time the vampire guided him through Purgatory, Sam had begun to tolerate him more and more. He would go so far as to admit to himself that Benny was an ok guy. But that still did not mean that Sam would be willing to confide in him about Dean's issues. That was something between Dean and himself. After all, that was the way their lives went. They dealt with each other's problems on their own – never allowing outsiders to see them at their most vulnerable. True, there had been exceptions, like Cas or Bobby and a few others, most of them dead. But even the privileged few still did not know Sam and Dean as well as they knew themselves. Even those that the two brothers considered as good as family often felt as if they were on the outside looking in when it came to the Winchesters.

Benny noticed that Sam was in a more reflective mood that day. He did not ask him why, though. He had been with Dean long enough to know when not to pry, and he thought the same rules applied to Sam. At any rate, Benny had his own worries. Another day dawned on Purgatory and Dean still had not got them out. And Benny was beginning to wonder why. He tried to hide his worries, for Sam's sake, but he could not deny it to himself that he was concerned. What was taking Dean so long?

Benny doubted that Dean's delay was voluntary. Even if it had been only Benny in Purgatory, Dean would have still tried to get him out, once he had promised. But this was not only about Benny. Sam was there, too. And Benny knew Dean would claw his way back into Purgatory, if that was the only way to get Sam out. So, why was he so late? What had happened to him?

"You do realise it might be locked, you know," Sam spoke then, almost as if he had intercepted Benny's thoughts. "The portal from Minbar – it might not work anymore. I have it on good authority that some portals were locked to prevent exactly the sort of thing Dean's trying to do now."

Sam's voice was completely detached – as if he was not talking about the possibility of them being locked in that place for ever. But then, Benny realised with a jolt, if rumours were true, both Sam and Dean had been in far worse places than Purgatory. Maybe that was why they had both handled it so well.

"I highly doubt a locked portal is going to prevent your brother from getting to you," Benny pointed out.

Sam snorted.

"Oh no, it won't," he said. "Dean would probably find a way to break the lock. He can't help it – it's the way he is."

Benny cast Sam a thoughtful look.

"Yeah well, the same thing could be said about you," he pointed out.

Sam looked at Benny questioningly.

"Meaning?" he asked.

Benny looked around them, as if that was answer enough.

"You're here, aren't you?" he said. "You wouldn't have been here, if it hadn't been for Dean."

Sam shook his head quickly, dismissing the thought.

"I don't blame Dean, if that's what you're trying to get me to say," he replied sharply, then added, more quietly. "If anything, I blame myself."

Benny raised his eyebrows. He had no idea what was in Sam's head and he suspected he would have a field day in trying to understand him. It was beyond his comprehension, for example, how Sam could find himself responsible for Dean falling into Purgatory.

"You didn't free the Leviathans, did you now?" Benny argued reasonably.

Sam waved this aside. He did not want reasonable arguments.

"I should have been in that room with him when he confronted Dick Roman," he said. "Or instead of him. And as for freeing the Leviathan - no, you're wrong. It is my fault, in a way. I made a decision then – without it, Cas wouldn't have needed to resort to Purgatory in order to defeat Raphael."

Benny sighed heavily. He sat down on a boulder, indicating to Sam to do the same. He decided to try to talk some sense into Sam – he did not want him guilt-ridden while they were in that place, it could have led to wrong moves and wrong moves were fatal in Purgatory.

"Anything you care to share with me?" he inquired mildly. "I mean, since we're stuck in here with nothing to do – and since I'm here because Dean wanted someone to keep an eye on you until he got you out – you might as well keep me entertained, don't you think?"

Sam glared at Benny. He did not refuse him, though. In fact, he was feeling the need to unburden himself. The thought had been on his mind ever since Bobby died. He just had not shared it with anyone until then.

He began by telling Benny more about the situation with Raphael and how desperate Castiel had been to stop him – with good reason, too. He then talked about Cas' mission to locate a talisman which could have taken Raphael down which led to Sam and Dean's first visit on Babylon 5. He told Benny about the search for the talisman and all the players they had met there. He finished by confessing that he had been the one to destroy the talisman. He had done it to save Dean and get rid of a demon who was terrorizing the station, but the fact remained that without the talisman, Cas had had no choice but to resort to more unconventional means.

"So, you see," Sam ended with a shrug, "I'm here because of me – Dean was here because of me, too – however indirectly."

Benny almost decided to drop the matter. If that was the way Sam's mind worked, he did not know if there was anything he could say to get Sam to think otherwise. But he had already started this conversation. He was determined to end it on a rational tone.

"You know," he said thoughtfully, "Before that mining operation on Orion 7 that led me straight into a vampire nest, I was working for one of the best shipyards in the Earth Alliance."

Sam frowned, not really knowing where Benny was going with this.

"And?" he asked curiously.

"I helped build the _Prometheus_ ," Benny announced promptly. "I assume you know the name."

Sam looked up, his interest piqued.

"Course I know it," he said. "That's the ship that made first contact with the Minbari – if you could call that friggin' mess first contact."

Benny tilted his head.

"So," he said, "Do you blame me for what happened after? Could you say I caused the Minbari war?"

Sam stared at Benny as if he had grown an extra head – which, considering the fact that they were in Purgatory, would have been far less surprising than his unexpected question.

"What the hell?" he asked. "How did you get from helping build a ship to causing the war?"

Benny chuckled.

"Hey, I ain't blaming myself for nothing," he said. "I wasn't the one who fired on a Minbari vessel more or less unprovoked. I did build that ship, though. So, following your own reasoning, I'm indirectly responsible for the Minbari war."

"That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard," Sam protested.

Benny looked meaningfully at him. Sam shook his head, not wanting to apply Benny's hints to his own situation.

"It's not even the same," he said lamely.

Benny decided to leave it at that. When they got out, he would talk to Dean and warn him about his brother's weird idea of blaming himself for every single mishap in the known universe. Dean quite likely knew about it already. Still, Benny supposed that a reminder would not hurt.

A sound from somewhere behind them made Benny tense. A glance at Sam told him he had heard it too. They were no longer alone. They probably had not been for some time, but their talk had distracted them from their surroundings.

"That was touching," a voice announced. "It's good that you think you deserve to be here, Sammy-boy. It's gonna make my job a hell of a lot easier."

Sam tensed. He knew that voice. As he stood there, ready to attack, Gordon Walker appeared from the trees.

"Good to see you, Sam," he greeted. "I see you've found a friend."

 **Uhh...sorry for the cliffhanger? I thought this was the best place to end it, though. And I won't leave you hanging for too long, promise ;)**


	17. Chapter 17 Last desperate act

**C** **hapter 17 Last desperate act**

 **Right...I know it looks like I abandoned you, but I didn't, really. I've just got some major project at work, which means my free time is now considerably limited. I'm trying my best, though, so here's another chapter. Just a fair warning that updates might be a little on the irregular side for a while, although I'll do my best not to disappear for months at a time.**

 **Enjoy!**

 **Purgatory**

Sam froze at the sound of Gordon's voice. Even before Gordon showed himself, Sam knew who he was dealing with. He had once hoped never to hear that voice again. Gordon Walker had been the one who had started all the rumours about him – and, even though most of them had proved to be very near the mark, Sam would never be able to forgive him. Because Gordon had not only set people after him. He had set them after Dean, as well. And that Sam could never let slide. In fact, he thought he had taught Gordon a lesson concerning attacking him or his brother. He had apparently forgotten it in Purgatory.

"Fancy meeting you here, Gordon," Sam greeted calmly.

Benny cast Sam a questioning look.

"Friend of yours?" he inquired, eyeing the other vampire questioningly.

"Benny Lafitte, meet Gordon Walker," Sam said on a falsely cheerful tone. "Used to be a rough, no-nonsense type Hunter. Killed a lot of your kind, till he got turned into one himself."

"Till you killed me," Gordon snarled menacingly. "With your bare hands."

"Actually I think there was a chain involved as well, if I remember correctly," Sam replied promptly.

Noticing Benny's rather nervous look, Sam shrugged self-consciously.

"I was having a bad day," he explained.

Gordon scowled at the way Sam described it. He took a step back forward and the two noticed he had a huge dagger in his hand. Sam looked unimpressed.

"Nice toy," he praised. "But it's still two against one."

"Yeah, but now I'm the one having a bad day," Gordon retorted.

He looked at Benny searchingly. He had a lot of thing to say about the Winchesters allying themselves with vampires. But, as far as he was concerned, this was just Sam's nature showing itself. Gordon had always known Sam was a monster. And the fact that Sam was in Purgatory proved it even more than his alliance with Benny. Anyway, Gordon was sure Benny would be easy to take care of. There was no loyalty between monsters.

"You can go," he urged Benny. "I won't stop you. Just give me some alone time with Sammy."

To Gordon's amusement, Sam scowled at that. People always hit a nerve when they called him Sammy. Only one person got to call him that, so Sam always claimed. Of course, that made for a good way for people to get under his skin.

Benny was not budging. If anything, he moved even closer to Sam. Sam cast him a quizzical look, but did not appear too surprised. He smirked in Gordon's direction.

"Still two against one," he told Gordon. "Why don't you give it up? Practice a little live and let live. Be a good monster and I won't have to cut off your head – again."

Gordon's look now was positively feral. Sam was pleased to notice a glint of fury in his eyes, though. He knew calling him a monster would irritate Gordon. After all, Sam knew how to push people too.

Gordon made a last attempt to get to Benny.

"Come on, man," Gordon insisted. "You realise you're helping a Hunter, right? If this guy saw you on the surface, he'd do to you what he did to me."

Sam shifted his feet. This, he could not deny. In all likelihood, he and Dean would have hunted Benny down, had they got wind of him. In all likelihood, if they got back topside and the vampire did not behave, the Winchesters would have to do something about him. It was not pleasant, but nothing about a Hunter's job was particularly pleasant. That was why Sam had never been able to truly enjoy it.

If Benny caught any indication of Sam's discomfort, he did not show it. He still stood beside Sam, ready to take on Gordon, if it was needed. Gordon scoffed.

"Fine," he said dismissively. "You want to risk your life for a Hunter, be my guest."

He lifted his dagger and made a dash towards Sam.

 **Tuzannor**

Dean followed Ralph outside the building and down the streets of Tuzannor. Even though Ralph was leading them at a quick pace - and even though Dean had worries of his own to deal with - he could not help admiring the town. He had never been in a Minbari city before. He had to admit it was not what he would have imagined it to be. But a lot of humans had quite a few misconceptions about Minbari. Even fifteen years after the war, some prejudices still stood. And not a lot of people could get past them.

Sam had, a long time ago. Dean knew that quite well. Not that Sam had been too prejudiced about the Minbari even during the war. Dean could recall countless of incidents when Sam had seemed to be more on their side than on that of Earth. At the time he had thought it was yet another way Sam had found to rebel against their father – John Winchester being quite outspoken against the Minbari during the war. But now Dean was not so sure anymore.

The truth was, Dean had always thought Sam was far braver than he himself was – and maybe than their father too. It was not about bravery in the face of monsters – although Dean knew Sam had that in plenty, he would not have been able to cast himself into the Cage otherwise. But there was a different kind of bravery, too. Sam had the guts to ask himself all the uncomfortable questions Dean usually avoided.

Dean remembered when, at the very start of the Minbari war, a Hunter – it could have even been Ralph's father, Phill, Dean could not really recall that now – had called Sam out on his ambivalence towards the Minbari. Why did he constantly insist on seeing their side of things?

" _Maybe it's in my nature," Sam had answered then. "Same as it's your nature – and my dad's as well – to sympathize with the captain of the Prometheus."_

" _What's that supposed to mean?" the Hunter had asked, sensing an insult in Sam's words._

 _Sam had only looked at his interlocutor innocently._

" _All I'm saying is, you guys would have shot first and asked questions when it was too late, also," he retorted._

Dean snorted at the memory of Sam's bold words. He had quite a lot of spunk even as a teenager – and Dean had to take some credit himself for that. But Sam had always shown the willingness to tackle ideas Dean himself was afraid of challenging.

He might not have been the only one. Dean looked at Ralph curiously. The young man navigated the complicated pattern of the streets as if he had been born on Tuzannor. Whenever he met any of the inhabitants, he greeted them, offering the traditional Minbari salute. They responded in kind and it was clear to Dean that they respected Ralph. Whether they respected the uniform, or Ralph as a person, it did not matter. The fact that the son of hardened Hunter was wearing that uniform in the first place – really wearing it, not only as a means to an end like Sam had – was what intrigued Dean the most.

Dean already knew Phill Wilson hung around with zealots such as Gordon Walker and others that had given him and Sam hell during the Apocalypse. Such people had a shady view on who should be called monsters and many considered aliens as fair game. Dean knew some of them hunted aliens. Not all maybe, and maybe Phill Wilson was not one of them. But Phill was a xenophobe of the highest order, which was why Dean was rather surprised to see his son so comfortable on Minbar.

"Hey listen," Dean began in an effort to make conversation, but also because he was starting to feel curious. "Does…uh…does your father know you're down here?"

Ralph's shoulders tensed slightly.

"Course he does," he said tightly. "You know how Hunters are – always keeping tabs on those they know. Sometimes a bit too much, if you ask me."

From the way Ralph talked, Dean assumed he did not think much about his father. Or perhaps it was the other way round.

"No offence, Ralph," Dean commented, "But I somehow don't think your dad approves too much of your choice of employers."

Ralph snorted.

"Ever talk to Phill Wilson lately?" he retorted. "Last time I saw him – oh, about a year and a half ago - he was singing former president Clark's praises and accusing me of being a traitor of the highest orders and no son of his – the whole shebang. I gave as good as I got, I'm afraid to say. So we're not on speaking terms now."

Ralph paused. He shook his head.

"It's hard, you know," he confided. "I mean, his job is what it is and mine's no less different. Either of us could be walking to our deaths at any given time. Thinking that I might not get the chance to patch things up with my Dad – well, it's not pleasant."

Dean nodded in understanding. He remembered the time Sam was no longer talking to their father after he had left for college – and how they were all afraid the rift between them will never get fixed. He also remembered all the feuds he had with Sam – and how he had regretted every single one of them when Sam had been in Hell.

"I hear you, man," he said. "Hey, when all this is over and we get Sam out, maybe I can help? I'll have some Hunters locate your father and try to patch things up between the two of you. How's that sound?"

Ralph shrugged his shoulders. He did not look too convinced that it might work.

"We'll see about that," he said dismissively. "Let's get your brother out. One thing at a time, right?"

They walked on in silence. Tuzannor was a complicated city, just as the Minbari were a complicated people. The constructions were tall and dignified, yet everything was built in the tiniest detail. It was clearly a place that favoured art and culture and Dean could not deny that the Minbari possessed some kind of aesthetic sense. The more he looked at Tuzannor, the more Dean thought that it was a city Sam would enjoy. All the better. It would be a good thing for Sammy to be in a place he liked, after Purgatory.

All the while Dean was trying to ignore the effects that Purgatory had left on him. Hyper vigilance was the least of his problems. The truth was, any time someone walked near him, Dean was about to jump out of his skin. Whenever the streets got narrower, he had the claustrophobic feeling that something was going to come at him and there would be no way for him to escape quickly enough. Even the smallest sound was considered a threat. But Dean resolutely told himself to ignore such fancies. He could not give in to such things, not when he needed to rescue Sam. After Sam was safe, then maybe Dean could worry about his own problems. But that was only if Sam did not need him to help him with his own. That was how things went with the Winchesters, after all.

 **Purgatory**

Sam was prepared for Gordon's attack. He had known Gordon would make straight for him instead of trying to eliminate Benny first. Who knew, maybe Gordon expected to land a lucky blow on Sam and did not care much what Benny did to him afterwards as long as he accomplished his mission.

Benny sprang at Gordon at the same time that Gordon tried to attack again. Sam attempted to come to Benny's aid. If the two of them worked together they could get rid of Gordon faster. But there was something in the way Gordon was fighting that made Sam uneasy. Even from the start, he could have probably injured Sam, if he really wanted to. Instead Gordon was choosing a strange form of attack, more dancing around Sam and Bennny than actually engaging either of them. It was almost as if he was keeping them on hold for some reason. And then, it dawned on Sam. Gordon was biding his time. He did not want to kill Sam – not yet.

Sam could not understand why Gordon would do this instead of just trying to finish the both of them quickly. But, whatever the reason, it boded nothing good for him. Sam tried to catch Benny's eye, trying to guess if he had realised Gordon's intentions. They had to change their strategy, if Gordon was actually trying to keep them in place for a while. But Benny was not Dean. Sam could not simply look at him and carry an entire conversation with just one look.

Benny and Sam held their ground for a while. Gordon was actually retreating. Benny looked like he was about to go after him and finish him off. Sam wanted to warn him not to. Whatever Gordon's plan was, Sam was sure now he was baiting them, leading them into some kind of trap.

The ground started shaking all of a sudden. The sky grew even darker. For a moment Sam had the wild hope that this was it – Dean was getting him out of Purgatory. But the smirk on Gordon's face told a different story. Gordon had been expecting whatever was happening now. Which meant that it was not Dean. It was something else. Something that boded ill for Sam.

"What?" Gordon shouted. "You'd think I'd come take you all by myself? I know you, Sam! I underestimated you when I was topside. There was no way in Hell I'd underestimate you here now. You're not the only one with friends among the local population, Sam."

Sam looked at the unsteady ground under his feet. It was as if something was trying to rise from there, threatening to swallow him whole. It was a feeling Sam was familiar with, he had experienced it once before and the reminder of when that had been and what had happened after made his blood freeze.

What was going on? Was Hell opening up to receive him? Sam could not stop thinking about that, even though deep down he knew it had to be something different. Gordon did not have the ability to send hell's wrath upon him – could he?

The earthquake – whatever it was, did not seem to be affecting Gordon. He stood there with the ground shaking beneath his feet, but he looked steady on his feet. The only ones affected by the quake, then, were Sam and Benny. It was meant for them.

"What the hell are you doing?" Benny shouted, even as he was trying to get closer to Sam – Dean had left it upon him to take care of his brother, and Benny intended to do just that, even against this strange new threat.

Gordon laughed. He looked as if he had gone completely mad.

"Made a few dark deals of my own," he replied. "I've got powerful friends too, as I've said. And they're coming for you. I'd like to see you get out of this one, Sammy-boy!"

Sam tried to move further from Gordon. He and Benny had to get away from there, maybe find a place unaffected by whatever powers Gordon had allied himself with. But he suddenly realised that he could not move. It was almost as if he no longer had any control over his body.

The ground suddenly gave an almighty lurch. Sam was flung back and hit his head against something hard. The last thing he heard was Gordon's mad laugh. His last thought was that, even if Dean managed to open the portal on Minbar, it would no longer matter. He would be too late to rescue Sam.

 **Tuzannor**

Ralph finally led Dean down a dark narrow street on the outskirts of Tuzannor. At the end of the street, there was a very small building, nothing like the imposing constructions Dean had seen so far. It actually surprised Dean somehow. When he had heard Ralph talking about a group of Minbari working to keep people safe from Purgatory, he had expected them to be found in a temple of some kind.

"Are you sure it's here?" he could not help asking.

Ralph rolled his eyes at him, wordlessly pointing out that he was the one who knew his way with his eyes closed on Minbar – and not Dean.

"Still a control freak, I notice," he remarked, pushing the door open.

It was dark inside. The only illumination came from some light hanging on the ceiling. It was faint and barely reached the ground. Dean could only make out a faint impression of what the place looked like. He tensed, not liking the darkness after Purgatory.

"I can't see much, you know," he told Ralph reproachfully.

"There is really no reason for you to see much. At least, this is what we think."

The voice had come from somewhere ahead. Dean nearly jumped out of his skin and would have probably attacked, if Ralph had not put a restraining hand on his shoulder. Dean forced himself to relax. Whoever was coming was not an enemy – not yet, at least.

Soft footfalls approached them and Dean was able to make out a dim figure, clearly Minbari. As he drew near, Dean was able to see his harsh features. He was eyeing Dean and even Ralph with distrust. He was not wearing the Ranger uniform.

"So," he told Ralph, ignoring Dean, "We are going through with your foolhardy plan. Even after my warnings."

Ralph looked unmoved.

"Enthil'zha approved it," he pointed out. "It's above our heads now."

"Delenn's plans are not known for their caution," the Minbari pointed out. "Quite the opposite I should say. And we are dealing with things she does not understand."

Dean decided it was time he took matters into his own hands. He drew level with the Minbari, wanting to show him that the likes of him did not intimidate him.

"She might not understand," Dean began confidently. "But I understand plenty, pal. And it's me you're dealing with, ain't it?"

The Minbari stood his ground.

"Yes," he agreed curtly. "I am dealing with you. Can you give me a reason why I shouldn't _deal with you_ , as you put it, the way my kind has dealt with yours fifteen years ago? It would save many people a lot of grief, considering what you want to do."

"You can try," Dean told him challengingly. "Don't know if you'll succeed, though. See, I've been places and seen things – and you don't scare me one bit."

Ralph cleared his throat warningly. He did not want Dean antagonising the Minbari. For a moment, he reminded Dean of Sam. His brother always used to try to keep Dean in check when he got undiplomatic. Most likely, Dean mused, Sam would not want him getting violent now. He stepped back.

"Look, man, I'm not here to fight anyone," he said. "I'm not here to unleash hell on Minbar – believe me, I've got no reason to cause you trouble. I'm just here because I want to save my brother and here's the only place that will work. Ralph said you knew a way that portal can be opened safely. What's the harm in telling me?"

If the Minbari had been unmoved by Dean's bravado, this appeal to his softer side seemed to be touching him even less. He raised his eyebrows, looking from Dean to Ralph.

"Trying to win me over with sentimentality now," he remarked to Ralph. "Does he really think it is going to work? He must have spent too much time with Delenn."

Dean sensed that it was Ralph now who was about to lose his temper. He was about to intervene when the Minbari backed off, shaking his head.

"No matter," he sighed. "You are what we would consider a True Seeker, Dean Winchester. And my people cannot turn their back from something like this – we must help you, for this reason alone. No matter what it might do to us."

Dean did not really understand what the Minbari meant when he called him a "True Seeker". He did not even care much. All that mattered was that he would be helped. The Minbari would help him to get Sam out – because apparently they had to. And getting Sam out was all that Dean cared about right now.

"Fine, I'm a True Seeker," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "So how do we go about this? How do you help me open the portal?"

"Do you have the object you wish to use in your ritual?" the Minbari asked. "The one tied to your brother."

Dean nodded and dug the brooch out of his pocket. He showed it to the Minbari, but did not give it to him. The Minbari's eyes narrowed briefly when he saw that it was a Ranger's jewel. He did not make any comments, though.

"That is good," was all that he said. "I must prepare for my part now. You wait here. At dusk we will take you to the portal."

The Minbari vanished in the shadows of the room. Dean bit his lips, shaking his head. Ralph looked at him concerned.

"What is it?" he asked. "You've only got a few hours left. You'll get Sam back soon."

Dean hesitated. He could not shake off the feeling of urgency that had suddenly taken hold of him. He could not shake off the idea that he had to get Sam out _now_ or else something terrible was going to happen. He looked at the brooch Sam had worn. He had the impression it had suddenly gotten colder to the touch.

"What if it's not soon enough?" he asked "What if I'm too late."

Ralph did not answer. He did not want to know what would happen to the world if Dean Winchester, instead of rescuing his brother, found out he had lost him – probably forever.


	18. Chapter 18 And the world didn't fall

**Chapter** **18 And the world didn't fall**

 **Happy New Year, folks! I'd like to thank you for your patience and understanding since my updating has been irregular at best over the past few months. I do hope you'll enjoy this next chapter. Only a few more chapters to go, but I've already have a sequel in mind (think I'll continue exploring this universe until we all grow tired of it ;) )**

 **Purgatory**

Sam woke up with no idea of how much time had passed since he had been knocked out by whatever powers Gordon had invoked. All he knew was that he was still in Purgatory – and he was lying somewhere tied up. He tested his bonds, but realised quickly there was no way to get out of them without help. If Dean got him out now, he would probably have a field day mocking Sam about getting tied up by Gordon Walker.

"Welcome back, Mr Winchester," Gordon's voice sounded from somewhere above him. "I was afraid you wouldn't wake up in time. That would have been a shame. You would have missed all the fun."

Sam squinted up and saw Gordon standing above him. He frowned.

"What the hell did you do?" he demanded. "Where's Benny?"

"You're not really in a position to demand answers, are you now?" Gordon pointed out grinning. "I don't know where your vampire pal is. I was more focused on getting you. Looks like he abandoned you, though."

"I kinda doubt it," Sam spat.

He was slightly surprised he thought that way. After all, he still did not know how much he could trust Benny, despite all he had done for Dean. But this time Sam was sure Benny would not simply abandon him. For one thing, if Benny kept close to Sam, he would be able to get out of Purgatory himself when Dean finally did the spell.

The thought of Dean getting him out brought another idea in Sam's mind. He looked at Gordon suspiciously.

"Is that why you're keeping me tied up?" he asked. "You know Dean's gonna get me out and you're thinking I'm your ticket out of Purgatory?"

Gordon laughed, amused by the idea.

"I don't want to get out of Purgatory, Sam," he said. "I know the damage I'd do outside. And I was a Hunter. I used to put down monsters for a living – regardless of who they were."

So, Gordon did not want out. Why was he keeping Sam, though? Why not simply kill him?

"So you're gonna do what?" Sam challenged. "Torture me? Hate to break it to you, but I've spent more than you'd like to know with Michael and Lucifer. What do you think you can do to me they haven't already done and worse?"

Gordon looked for a moment like he was about to ask for details. Then he snorted.

"Oh, believe me, I'm tempted," he said. "But – no. I'm actually not going to do anything to you."

Instead of feeling reassured, Sam felt even more nervous. There was something in the way Gordon spoke that sounded positively ominous.

"Let's have it," he snarled. "What's your game?"

Gordon sat down next to Sam. He looked positively gleeful. Sam felt even more alarmed.

"You've heard of Soul Hunters, right?" he asked, then seeing the look of comprehension in Sam's eyes, he snorted. "Of course you did. Well, Soul Hunters have a special place down here. Whenever one passes, followed by the processions of poor sods who've had their souls taken by them, everyone gets out of their way. Wanna know why? Because the unlucky son of a bitch that gets in their path has a very, very terrible fate. He's not the same afterwards. Part of him follows the Soul Hunter from then on.

"You know," Sam pointed out. "I've done the soulless gig, too. Got out of it."

But Gordon shook his head.

"Not like this, you haven't," he said. "From what I've heard, last time you were still you – kinda – and your soul existed in some place, didn't it? This would be different. You'd no longer be yourself. You'd be only an empty shell – probably able to function more or less – but you sure as hell won't be Sam Winchester anymore."

Gordon paused again, relishing the effects his words had on Sam. Even though he was trying hard to hide it – trying to appear defiant in the face of the inevitable to the very end, as he always did – he was clearly terrified. Gordon supposed he should congratulate himself. There were not a lot of threats that could make a Winchester lose his composure even a little.

"Imagine," he pressed on ruthlessly, "If Dean's going to get you out only after the Soul Hunter's done with you. You'll be beyond saving then – beyond deals and whatever dark magic you boys usually use to bring each other back. It would kill him, wouldn't it, Sammy?"

Sam struggled harder with his bonds, Gordon's words about Dean bringing him more motivation to escape. Gordon was right – it would break his brother. And Sam did not want to die – or whatever would happen to him when the Soul Hunter got to him – with the notion that his fate would cause Dean such heartbreak.

Gordon watched Sam's futile attempts to free himself with a sort of morbid amusement.

"I'd save my strength if I were you," he advised. "Now – I'm a fair person, Sam, you know that, right?"

"Not from where I'm sitting," Sam bit back.

"Well, I am," Gordon went on calmly. "I'm gonna go now. I'm gonna leave you here for the Soul Hunter."

"What, not even going to stay and watch?" Sam could not help taunting. "I would've thought seeing me get annihilated would be the highlight of your miserable Purgatory existence."

Gordon shrugged his shoulder.

"I'm willing to give you a chance. If Dean manages to get you out before the Soul Hunter gets here, at least I won't be here to stop him – that's how fair I am. Although I would not put too much hope in a rescue if I were you. Dean hasn't gotten you out yet. What are the odds of him doing it in a few hours?"

Sam did not say anything. The odds did indeed look bleak. But what Gordon seemed to have forgotten was that Dean had beat the odds plenty of times before – could always do so when his brother was involved.

 **Tuzzanor**

For Dean, the rest of the day passed in a blur. Usually, in the hours before a hunt, his anxiety would dissipate and he would see everything in a clearer focus. There would be nothing but the task ahead and the notion of getting it done would be what sustained him in the next hours, until the hunt was finished. He could not do that now. His anxiety was actually mounting, until he felt like he was going to go crazy. He was pacing the room of the dark temple like a caged animal.

It did not help that he still felt messed-up after Purgatory. He still labelled everything as a threat, which meant his instincts were screaming for him to take a swing at someone. But Dean was sure he would have been able to get over that, or at least pretend it was not happening, if Sam was there. And Sam was not there. And something was telling Dean that if they did not hurry, he would never be there again.

Ralph was watching Dean worriedly. He could see the other Hunter was like a powder keg who needed only a match to blow up. Ralph dearly hoped none of the Minbari would inadvertently trigger him. Otherwise, Ralph was not sure he would be able to prevent a diplomatic incident, however much he tried.

"It won't be much longer now," Ralph tried to remind Dean.

Dean started violently at the sound of Ralph's voice, then shook his head irritated that he had been caught off guard.

"You know, a lot has happened to you," Ralph went on. "No one's going to blame you if you're a little…agitated. And you shouldn't take that agitation as an omen – it might be nothing more than a natural reaction."

Dean glared at Ralph.

"This is Sam we're talking about," he pointed out. "I know when something's wrong. I can feel it."

It was the same feeling that had prompted him to turn round years ago when Sam had been in college – the reason why he had been able to save Sam from the fire then in the first place. Dean could not explain it. Certainly not to Ralph who probably had never formed that close a connection to someone as he had with Sam throughout the years. And he knew Sam was in danger now. He knew they had to hurry.

"What's taking them so long?" he asked irritably.

"We've been over this, Dean," Ralph said patiently. "We have to make sure that nothing gets out with Sam – or, that if it does, we'll be able to contain it."

Dean acted as if he had not heard his words.

"I swear, those Minbari do too much thinking and damn little acting, if you're asking me."

Ralph closed his eyes and counted to ten. He wondered if Dean was like this only because Sam was missing – or if his restless personality was just part of him. If the latter, then Ralph would have to congratulate Sam for his patience. He had to be a saint for putting up with his brother, when he acted like that.

"If it's any consolation, I doubt they did much thinking when they decided to move against Earth," Ralph quipped. "Now, as soon as they're done preparing the place for us, they'll take us to the woods and you'll open the portal and get Sam out."

Dean ran a weary hand over his face. He had been told the plan – more or less. The Protectors of the Gateway – so the group of Minbari dubbed themselves – were going to set up some sort of barrier in the place where the portal was to be opened. It was some sort of devil's trap, Dean guessed, although he had been shown the design and it did not look like any of the protection charms Hunters used. Dean would have to remember it for later. Maybe it would come in handy again.

From what the Minbari told Dean – and Dean hoped very much that was the truth and they were not keeping anything back – it was supposed to act as a barrier for whatever came out of Purgatory. It would not harm them, just keep them from moving. If only Benny and Sam came out, nothing would happen to them. They just wouldn't be able to move, until they were released. If something else was brought back along with them – well, they would finish it off before it even realised it was out of Purgatory.

Dean had asked for a thousand assurances that Sam would not be harmed by the barrier. Even now he was not sure about it. This group of Minbari had been set to guard the portal to Purgatory against any threat. What if they wanted to do this by insuring that anything that came out – Sam and Benny included – would be killed the minute they were topside?

"Trust me everyone here knows this is going to be a rescue mission first and foremost," Ralph reminded him. "Sam will be fine. So will Benny, if he behaves."

Ralph still did not feel too comfortable with the idea of helping rescue a vampire of all things. But Dean was ready to vouch for Benny, so he supposed he could leave his former Hunter prejudices behind. It was not the first time he had done that, after all.

Movement in the shadows attracted their attention. Three Minbari appeared. The one who had greeted Dean and Ralph made a sign that they should follow him.

"It is time," he said. "If you still want to do this, we should do it now."

 **Purgatory**

Benny's eyes snapped open. He found himself lying in a ditch – still in Purgatory. He groaned. The memories he had were dim – he remembered Gordon gloating, the earthquake, Sam being flung away, then Benny himself falling – and that was all. That must have been quite a while ago.

Benny got up and looked around, dazedly. He was alone. There was no sign of anyone else there.

"Sam!" he called, even though he knew shouting was likely to draw enemies to him before it drew Sam. "Sam, are you here? Hey, answer me!"

There was no answer. Benny shook his head, thinking it was foolish of him to expect one. Sam was probably with Gordon right now, if he was alive at all.

What surprised Benny was that he himself was not dead. Once Gordon had incapacitated him, why had he not killed him? Why had he been content to just take Sam and bolt? That told Benny that Gordon's revenge plan had to be something more elaborate than simply killing Sam. He could have done that already. He could have gotten rid of Benny too, while he was at it. Why hadn't he? What was he up to?

Benny stood for a while, thinking. The way he saw it, he had two choices. One was to walk away – simply be thankful that Gordon had left him alive and just forget the Winchesters ever happened. That was the safe path.

But Benny could not do it. He had promised Dean he would not abandon Sam in Purgatory. Over the course of his life – both as a human and as a vampire – Benny had made only few promises. But he had not broken any of them.

There was also the cold fact that Sam was Benny's only chance of leaving Purgatory. When Dean opened that portal for Sam, anyone with him would have a chance of getting out. Benny was not about to waste that.

He'd take the second alternative, then. He'd try to find Sam. Benny shook his head. It looked like a hopeless, reckless idea. The fact that he was so eager to go along with it only proved that he had spent too much time with the likes of Dean Winchester.

 **Woods outside Tuzzanor**

It was evening. Dean found himself standing a few miles outside the Minbari capital city. The mountains were near and the air was cold. He shivered and he did not know if it was from the cold or from the overwhelming uneasiness that he was about to lose Sam forever. Ralph stood beside him. Ralph was calm, although he was casting Dean concerned glances from time to time. It was almost as if he expected Dean to lose patience and start attacking.

The three Minbari that had led them to the portal were completely impassive. They worked diligently at drawing intricate symbols on the ground, the symbols that would bound anyone who stepped out of the portal when it was opened. Dean had offered to help, but he was promptly refused.

"These signs have to be made with complete accuracy," one of the Minbari said. "One mistake and no one knows what will happen. You might even kill your brother."

And that was enough to make Dean stop insisting, even though he had been helping his father draw protection signs since he was four and could pretty much do it with his eyes closed. He watched the Minbari work on their signs, hoping they would hurry. The sun was about to set.

 **Purgatory**

Benny returned to the spot where he and Sam had met Gordon. He figured it was the best place he had to start looking for Sam. There had to be some signs of what Gordon had done to him – and where he had been taken too, if he was lucky.

He was a little surprised to find the place almost unchanged – of course, this was Purgatory. The laws of nature did not always apply to it. Benny looked around. He spotted drag marks on the ground. Gordon had probably dragged Sam away. Clearly he did not expect Benny to follow, and saw no reason to cover his tracks.

"Well, that's his loss and my gain," Benny muttered. "I hope as hell this works."

He started tracking. As he walked he realised something. The marks led to a place where Soul Hunters passed regularly. Benny was starting to suspect something of Gordon's plan. He was beginning to like it less and less. He also knew that he had to hurry. He quickened his pace.

He walked like that for about half an hour. He reached a clearing surrounded by the twisted shapes that passed for bushes in Purgatory. Ducking under one of them, Benny peered into the clearing. He spotted Sam, tied up. There was no sign of Gordon, though.

Everything told Benny this could be a trap. Maybe Gordon was waiting for Benny to rescue Sam, so he could capture him too. But Benny didn't think so, somehow. For one think, Gordon had so far shown little interest in Benny. He had even suggested he would be all right if he left Sam. And anyway, Benny was sure Gordon didn't think he would risk his life for Sam. Hunters - even Hunters-turned-monsters – were prejudiced that way.

Benny picked up something else. He could hear it, distant and muffled, the procession of a Soul Hunter approaching. If it passed and Sam was in the way, he was doomed. If Benny was there, he'd be a gonner too.

Shaking his head, Benny ran towards the clearing. He dropped beside Sam.

"What the hell took you so long?" Sam greeted.

"Well, nice to see you, Sam. And I'm fine, too, by the way. Now let's get you the hell out of here."

 **Woods outside Tuzanor**

Dean watched as the Minbari drew the last signs. He took a deep breath. This was his chance.

"Ready?" Ralph asked.

Dean cast me an "are you kidding me?" look. He had been ready to do this ever since he had found himself out of Purgatory with Sam on the wrong side of the portal.

"Let's get Sammy home," he said.

 **Purgatory**

Benny struggled to remove Sam's bonds. He tried to cut them with his dagger, but the work was slow.

"What the hell did he tie you with, man?" Benny asked exasperated.

"Don't know, but he didn't seem concerned I might get out of this," Sam observed. "Can you set me loose?"

Benny hesitated. He had no doubt that, if he had time, he could free Sam. But time was a commodity right then. And they might not have enough until the Soul Hunter procession got there.

Sam must have guessed Benny's thoughts. He too could hear the strange rumour in the distance and, though he had never heard it before, he knew it had to be the Soul Hunter Gordon had told him about.

"You won't get me out in time, will you?" he asked rhetorically.

"Oh, I'll have you out," Benny replied, not looking at Sam.

The problem was that, at best he might just manage to free Sam right before the Soul Hunter was upon them. Either way, they would not be able to get out of its path afterwards. Sam had no difficulty seeing this.

"Hey, I think you should get out of here."

Benny snorted.

"Yeah, right, and have Dean Winchester come to Purgatory just so he can rip me from the inside out for running away and failing to save his little brother."

"Dean'll understand," Sam assured him quickly. "If you tell him exactly what happened – and that I told you to go – I'm sure he'll see there was nothing you could do."

Benny wondered if Sam had not hit his head harder than was good for him, if he could make such affirmations about Dean.

"I think you don't know Dean as well as you believe," he commented.

As he was talking, he was working harder on Sam's bonds. He had no idea what Gordon had tied him up with – it had to be some kind of enchantment. There were many things in Purgatory Benny did not know about. This was surely one of them.

The sound of the Soul Hunter's procession was drawing near. Benny could already make out in the distance the eerie flicker of a lantern. He worked harder to free Sam. He'd be damned, he thought, if he'd give up now.

 **Woods outside Tuzanor**

Dean had started the incantation. He was conscious of Ralph and the Minbari watching, but he did not look at them. They did not even exist at that moment. Only the spell existed – the spell that would finally bring Sammy home.

He tried not to stumble over the words – not to say them too quickly. The sense of urgency had grown on him and now it was nearly unbearable. He could almost feel it and he was one hundred per cent certain it was not his imagination. Sam was in danger. If he did not get him out soon, he would never see him again.

Dean could almost feel it now, the ground shaking beneath his feet, just like it had in Purgatory when Sam had performed the spell to get him out. He could also hear something else. He was not sure what it was, but he was certain he had heard it once before – in Purgatory. He was also certain it was not good news.

 _Maybe it's the sound of the world about to fall,_ his mind supplied to Dean unhelpfully. _Maybe this is the moment your care for Sam goes too far. Maybe this is the moment you and him end the universe._

Funnily enough, Dean could not bring himself to care. Because he thought that Sam had already given enough to the universe. It was only fair if the universe gave something to Sam, for once.

 **Purgatory**

Benny was nearly done with Sam's bonds. Unfortunately, the Soul Hunter was nearly upon them. He had spotted them, he was sure about that. He was looking straight at them.

Sam shuddered. He hated that it had to end that way. It was not that he had any regrets. He had gone to Purgatory to rescue Dean. He had willingly risked himself and whatever came after was acceptable. But he knew now Dean was trying to get him out. His brother was expecting Sam to return to him. And Sam was incredibly sorry that, in the end, he would not be able to do that, after all.

It was then that he felt the ground shaking. Purgatory was dissolving before his eyes. Sam knew what was happening. It was the same thing that had happened when he had tried to free Dean. If the ritual worked, if Dean got them out in time, they might be able to leave the Soul Hunter and its ghastly procession behind. If not – that would mean setting it loose on Minbar. And who knew what damage a formerly dead Soul Hunter returned from Purgatory and its victims could inflict.

 **Woods outside Tuzzanor**

Dean had nearly finished saying the spell. The ground was shaking beneath his feet. He thought he could see Minbar disappearing, the woods becoming nothing more than a frail curtain beyond which he could glimpse Purgatory. He was close now, so close he could almost feel Sam close to him. He concentrated on that feeling as he said the final words of the spell.

 **Purgatory**

The Soul Hunter was nearly upon them. By now, the ground was shaking so bad, Sam and Benny were surprised the procession was still standing and giving no sign they realised something was wrong. Sam fought the urge to close his eyes. He did not want to look at the approaching Soul Hunter. But he remembered that when he had performed the spell, he had caught a glimpse of Dean. Perhaps he would do so again. Things would go easier for him, he thought, if he managed to catch a glimpse of him one last time, before the Soul Hunter took him.

 **Woods outside Tuzzanor**

The world was shaking around Dean and he felt he was more in Purgatory than back on Minbar. He was only vaguely aware of Ralph and the Minbari braced to attack whatever came out of Purgatory – whatever was not Sam or Benny, Dean hoped. And they would be here any minute now.

 **Purgatory**

"This is it, then," Benny muttered.

Dean might have been close to getting them out – but if it was not in the next seconds then it would not matter much. He remembered that Sam had told him to go. Well, it was too late to do anything about it now.

 **Minbar**

The world seemed to turn itself inside out. For an instant, Dean and the others found themselves in Purgatory. They caught a glimpse of Sam and Benny and an approaching Soul Hunter. Then, there was a flash like a thousand bolts of lightning setting off at the same time. They cleared in an instant and they were all back on Minbar, with Sam and Benny and the Soul Hunter trapped in the protection sign drawn by the Minbari.

For an instant they all froze. It was Dean who reacted first, trying to get beyond the inscription and get Sam away from the Soul Hunter. One of the Minbari grabbed him. Dean did not even have time to react to that when the Soul Hunter gave a pained cry and vanished in a flash of green fire. Sam and Benny were still fine.

"One of the effects of the barrier we didn't mention to you," the Minbari who was holding him back said calmly. "We figured you might…get irrational, if we did. But, as you can see, your brother and your friend are fine."

Normally Dean would have reacted aggressively to such deception. Now, he did not care. As soon as one of the Minbari erased one of the lines, Dean bounded forward. He enveloped Sam in a hard hug before his brother could say anything. He did not care that he was getting embarrassingly emotional in front of witnesses. All he cared was that his brother was finally there. He had rescued Sam and he had not broken the world in the attempt. On the contrary, with Sammy at his side, the universe seemed to have finally righted itself.


	19. Chapter 19 Return to Babylon 5

**Chapter** **19 Return to Babylon 5**

 **If anyone's still following this story, thank you for that and good news: you've got an update :)**

 **Minbar. Woods outside Tuzanor**

It took a while for Dean to let go of Sam. Even then he still had his hands on his younger brother's shoulders, taking in the rather shaky look on his face and the bound hands.

"Are you all right?" he demanded. "What the hell happened to you anyway?"

"Gordon Walker happened," Benny offered helpfully. "Don't think he's much of a fan of yours. For a moment there I thought we were both gonners."

"I wouldn't have let it come to that," Dean muttered distractedly. "Good to see you there, Benny."

It wasn't exactly the warmest greeting Benny had expected. But he could see that Dean was focused only on one person at that point, and he could not actually blame him for that.

"Dean," Sam said then, speaking for the first time since he found himself out of Purgatory. "Dean, are you OK?"

Dean snorted. That was typical Sam. He had just narrowly missed getting up close and personal with a Soul Hunter and it was still Dean he worried about.

"Oh, I'm awesome," he replied working on Sam's bonds.

The bonds had been nearly completely loosed by Benny before the Soul Hunter was upon them. Dean did not have to work much before Sam was free. When he found he could use his hands again, Sam moved quickly to hug Dean.

"Man, it's really good to see you," he said breathlessly.

Dean allowed him his moment of sentimentality – after all, he had had one himself. Then, he pulled away.

"You sure you're OK?" he asked. "That son of a bitch Gordon…what did he do?"

"Wasn't that bad," Sam hastened to assure him. "Really."

Dean nodded thoughtfully. He inspected Sam carefully, then seemed to make up his mind about something. He promptly whacked Sam on the side of the head.

"Hey!" Sam cried, more irritated by the gesture than actually hurt. "What the hell was that for?"

"Not listening to me when I told you to back off," Dean retorted. "I told you I'd kick your ass all over the Galaxy and back, if you got yourself into trouble trying to rescue me."

"Strange," one of the Minbari muttered to Ralph. "You would think that after going through so much to rescue his brother, he would want to keep him alive, not assault him. Or is this customary with your species?"

Ralph shrugged his shoulders. There was nothing customary about the Winchesters and at times he thought he understood them less than he understood aliens. But, then again, he was sure he lacked the necessary experience that would have helped him understand Sam and Dean better.

"Don't ask me," he said. "I'm an only child."

 **The next day**

Sam and Dean did not have much energy left after the rescue. They spent the night at the Anla'shok headquarters together with Benny and Ralph. Sam still could not believe that the competent young Ranger he had met on his way to the Centauri colony was none other than the rather shy child who had looked at Dean and him with a mixture of awe and envy. In Sam's opinion, Ralph was proof enough that there really was life after Hunting, and he wasted no time telling the younger man that he had done quite well for himself – no matter what others said.

The next day they were all ready to leave Minbar – Sam and Dean on a White Star bound for Babylon 5 and Benny on a liner that would take him to Brakiri space – for a start. He would see where he went from there.

"You take care of yourself now, man," Dean said at Benny's parting, giving him a brief hug.

Sam shook Benny's hand.

"Make sure you stay out of trouble," he warned the vampire

Benny nodded quickly, not really offended by Sam's hint that he might slip into his old vampire ways.

"Will do both, mates," he promised. "Hope if we run into each other again, it won't be in a professional capacity."

He left for his ship. Dean stood looking after him.

"Think he'll be Ok?" he asked thoughtfully.

"I'm sure he will be," Sam assured Dean. "He seemed quite capable from what I've seen, and quite down to earth – for a vampire." He paused and looked at Dean carefully. "From what I've seen you trusted him – a lot. You don't usually trust easily."

Dean turned to look at Sam, wondering if he could really detect a rueful hint of jealousy in his younger brother's voice.

"Well, that's Purgatory for you," he said. "Doesn't give you much choice. If someone is trustworthy there, you do what you can for that person. You know that. You were there yourself."

"But you were there longer than me," Sam pointed out quietly. "That must have been rough."

Dean did not have to look at his brother to know he was watching him anxiously. He sighed. He had known that would come sooner or later. Sam always pressed him to talk, in some misguided attempt to help. But Dean did not think he could deal with that just yet.

"Look, Sam, just drop it for now, OK?" he said wearily. "Let's just board that White Star and head on to Babylon 5. I miss my ship."

Sam understood Dean's need to gain some control over his life before – if ever – he told anyone about his stay in Purgatory. Now was not the time or the place for one of their confrontations, so he decided to drop it – for now. He would get Dean to talk sooner or later.

The White Star on its way to Babylon 5 was Llewellyn's ship. Sam grinned when he saw the Captain.

"Llewellyn!" he greeted. "Good to see you again."

Llewellyn grinned back and shook Sam's hand. He then turned to Dean.

"You must be Dean Winchester. I've heard quite a lot about you."

"You have?" Dean asked surprised.

He knew Sam was not usually one to confide in strangers about his brother. Given their line of work, there was not much he could say, anyway, not without being considered insane. Llewellyn must have guessed what Dean was thinking. He laughed and shook his head.

"Well, no one has actually _told_ me much about you," he clarified. "But you can learn a lot about people from the things others are willing to do for them. And your brother – he was willing to go to some pretty great lengths."

The words made Dean wonder what exactly Sam was willing to do to get him back. He knew his brother had been willing to switch places with him in Purgatory. But what else? What happened during Dean's absence? Dean glanced at Sam thoughtfully. He would have to make Sam talk – which was rather unfair, considering Dean had refused to confide in Sam only minutes before. But Dean felt he needed to know what Sam had been through since they had taken down Dick Roman.

Abroad the White Star, Dean spent some time just admiring it – but _not_ drooling over it, as Sam was quick to point out, thank you very much. He would never give up his beloved _Impala_ , of course. His father's ship would always hold a special place in his heart. But that did not mean he could not recognise a good ship when he saw one. And the White Star was a damn good ship. It also looked familiar.

"This was in my dream," he discovered. "I've dreamed of this place. I've dreamed of you here."

"I know," Sam said. "I have no idea how it happened – or who did it, but we apparently were in the same dream while you were in Purgatory. And to think we wasted it with arguing over who was the real one…"

Dean snorted.

"I should have known that was really you," he said. "I mean, a figment of my imagination would never be as stubborn as the real deal."

Sam shook his head chuckling. He was secretly pleased that things were going so well. He could tell that Dean was haunted by his time spent in Purgatory, but it did not look like the time he had returned from Hell. Sam was sure that, whatever hah happened to Dean in Purgatory, they could get past it, with time.

Turning to look at Dean, Sam noticed that his brother was inspecting him in turn. Dean no longer looked amused. In fact, he looked concerned and faintly apprehensive.

"What happened, Sammy?" Dean asked. "After Dick Roman? What went down with you? Can you tell me?"

Sam hesitated. For a moment he was about to brush Dean off. Give him some vague hints and move on – just as they always did. They had never been good at talking about why they went through, so why start now? But it was a long way to Babylon 5 and talking was one way they could pass the time. And Sam hoped that if he talked, then he would make Dean tell him about Purgatory in return.

So Sam told Dean everything. How he had found himself lost when Cas and Dean had disappeared after the explosion. How he had assumed they were both dead. How he had taken Dean's ship and ran away with no clear destination and no clear purpose in mind. He told Dean of the weeks that followed, when he kept the ship on automatic and simply travelled, stopping only when it was absolutely necessary, ignoring anyone who wanted to make contact. How only the news of the Day of the Dead was the only thing to rouse his interest, thinking it would buy him a last talk with Dean.

Then Sam talked about what had happened that night on Babylon 5 and how he had found a purpose once more. He talked about all that he did during his search for Dean, not hiding anything. It was a first for them. When Dean had returned from Hell Sam had kept hidden so much. He found no reason to hide anything now. He almost felt that he needed to tell Dean everything.

One thing he neglected to mention, though. He did not go into detail about the object he had used to bring Dean back. He did not know how Dean would react to news of the amulet and he did not want to ruin things between then at such an early stage.

Dean noticed Sam avoiding the subject of the amulet completely. He made no comment at first, and just let Sam talk. Only when Sam finished his account, did Dean decide to show his brother he was not exactly ignorant of what he was trying to keep hidden – and that there was no reason to keep that hidden in the first place. He cleared his throat.

"You know," he began hesitantly. "When we got out of Purgatory Cas and I searched the place to see if there was any trace of you. And we found the amulet. I still have it with me, well, what's left of it. It kinda got blasted into pieces by the spell."

Sam froze when Dean casually mentioned the amulet. He nodded quickly, not wanting to look at Dean. Dean inspected Sam carefully. He realised his brother was rather apprehensive. Dean decided that, since he had started this conversation, he might as well go all the way.

"Listen, Sammy – I get it. I get why you recovered the amulet after I threw it away. And I sorta get what was in your head that made you not tell me. It's on me that you didn't feel like telling me about it. But I really wish you had."

Sam searched Dean's face, as if to see that he really meant it. He seemed to be satisfied that Dean was telling the truth. He nodded quickly, feeling his throat go dry.

"So," he said, trying to lighten the mood. "That means my Ranger brooch is toast, too, right?"

In answer to that, Dean handed Sam what was left of the jewel with a sympathetic grimace.

"I wouldn't advise you to give it to Delenn like this," he said. "She might get pissed you ruined it. Although," he added with a sly grin, "She's given you a lot of latitude, so far. I think she's sweet on you, Sammy."

Sam snorted, shaking his head.

"She's married, Dean," he pointed out.

He did not have to look at Dean to know he was leering now.

"That hasn't stopped people yet, Sammy," he said knowingly. "Hey, maybe she wants you to be her Lancelot."

Sam cast Dean a look meant to indicate he thought his brother was delusional.

"Dude, I find it scary that you even know who Lancelot really is."

Sam had missed the banter between him and Dean. He had thought at a time he had lost it forever. Perhaps, he thought hopefully, perhaps this adventure of theirs in Purgatory was their second chance. Perhaps they could choose paths from now on that would make it less likely for them to lose each other.

During the days of the journey to Babylon 5, Sam managed to bring Dean up to speed with what had been happening around the world during his stay in Purgatory. There were a lot of changes and even Dean – who usually pretended to be unaffected by anything non-monster related – could brush them away so easily. Unsurprisingly, he was particularly interested in Mars finally becoming independent.

"We should go there one day," Dean suggested. "Meet up with Jody Mills. Celebrate her becoming one of the big-shots and give Bobby the send-off he deserves."

Sam was so glad to hear Dean making plans for something that did not involve Hunting for once that he agreed right away.

On the evening before they reached Babylon 5, Dean told Sam about Purgatory. He did not go into details – that was not his style – but he did not hide anything either. After all, Sam had been honest with him about what he had done during their separation. Dean figured he owed his brother the same.

"I tell you it wasn't fun when I thought I'd be spending the rest of eternity there," Dean admitted in the end. "Wasn't fun when I thought you'd be, either."

"Well, we made it through," Sam pointed out, then added, before he could stop himself: "This time."

Dean cast Sam a questioning look. He noticed that the younger man appeared exhausted – which was not surprising after everything that had happened. But Dean was wondering if there was not more behind Sam's grim outlook than his visit to Purgatory. He did not press the issue, though. If he wanted to have that kind of conversation with Sam – and he was not sure he really did – it would have to be somewhere more private than a White Star.

 **Babylon 5**

They reached Babylon 5 after a three day journey. Since they came abroad the White Star, they were allowed to enter the station without much of a fuss.

"That's what I call travelling in style," Dean commented. "I might have to try that again."

Sam shook his head ruefully.

"Don't count on it. Depending on how my meeting with Delenn goes, we might have to escape Babylon 5 by way of the fusion reactor and then spend the rest of our lives in hiding – more than before, I mean."

Sam did not actually think Delenn was upset with them, despite him nearly unleashing Purgatory on the Galaxy. But there was still the matter of the favour he owed her for her help – and both Sam and Dean had done the whole being in debt to others before. It never ended well.

Dean was watching Sam with concern.

"I could come with you to Delenn," he offered. "Run interference and stuff."

Apart from the fact that the idea of Dean running interference was hilarious in itself, Sam was sure that, if Delenn was not pleased with him that she had every chance to be even more furious with Dean.

"Dude, you opened a portal into Purgatory a few miles away from her capital city – _and_ from the new headquarters of the Interstellar Alliance," Sam pointed out. "Not to mention that you managed to bring out a Soul Hunter. You know how Minbari feel about Soul Hunters."

"Not really," Dean replied promptly.

"They're not exactly on speaking terms. Look, let me talk to Delenn alone, first. I'm sure I'll be fine. You go ahead and have a look at your ship. I know you're dying to do so. And get us a room while you're at it."

Sam left Dean in the Docking Bay and went straight to Ambassador Delenn's quarters. He knew the way well enough by now. He was pleased to find Delenn. One of these days, he thought wryly, he would run into Sheridan and wouldn't that mean he would have some explaining to do? He had no idea what, if anything, Delenn had told John Sheridan about her latest understanding with Sam. But Sam had seen enough of Sheridan to know the former captain would not have approved someone running all over the territories of his new alliance, trying to open potentially dangerous portals left right and centre.

"Mr Winchester," Delenn greeted him. "I must say, I was not expecting to see you again, after our last talk."

"I hope that doesn't mean you're sorry to see me, Entil'za."

Delenn smiled.

"Hardly. How is your brother?"

Sam chose to take the fact that Delenn was asking about Dean in such a friendly manner as a good sign.

"He's as fine as can be expected. He's checking out his ship – that should do him good. Now – you said at the end of all this there would be a favour? That you would want something from me?"

"From both of you, actually," Delenn admitted. "There is a favour that I would ask you and your brother. Or maybe I should call it an offer. You'd better have a seat, Mr Winchester. We need to talk."


	20. Chapter 20 To new beginnings

**C** **hapter 20 To new beginnings**

 **I had this chapter ready for posting last week. Then, my computer decided to end a long and fruitful relationship without a warning. I've finally managed to fix things now, and re-write the chapter. I hope you will enjoy. Thank you for your continuing interest in this :)**

 **Epilogue will be posted in about two weeks' time.**

 **Ambassador Delenn's quarters**

Sam sat down next to Delenn, feeling apprehensive. He had no idea what was coming, and that made him tense. He was suddenly sorry he did not have Dean next to him.

"What did you have in mind, then?" he asked.

"First of all, allow me to congratulate you on how you handled yourself," Delenn said to Sam's surprise. "You had a lot on your mind, and still you managed to help the Alliance. You located a war criminal, you did your part on the White Star, you sent information crucial to us – you even told us about a warehouse stocking illegal weapons on Colony 10. So, do not talk anymore about you or your brother owing me any favours. Whatever debts there were, you paid them in full, Sam."

"So what you want from me now…that's what exactly?"

"Just as I have said – an offer. If anything, it is a way of me repaying you and not backwards."

Sam raised his eyebrows. He and Dean were not used to having people want to repay them – for anything. On the contrary, most were glad to see the back of them. Sam had learned early on that being a Hunter was a thankless job. He looked at Delenn questioningly.

"I have found out quite a lot about you and about your brother during this quest of yours," Delenn said. "I realised you are resourceful, determined and fiercely loyal to each other. Individually, you are a force to be reckoned with. Together, I think you could make an almost unbeatable team."

Sam did not say anything. He was feeling more and more confused with all the compliments Delenn was suddenly throwing at him and he could not wait to see where this was all leading.

"I will be honest with you," Delenn went on, "This Interstellar Alliance of ours is still young. It needs a lot to keep it on its feet. It needs the Anlashok, the Rangers. And the Rangers need to be the best there are. And somehow I think you and your brother fall into that category."

Sam gaped at the Minbari Ambassador. He was unable to believe his ears. Of all the things he had been expecting from this conversation an offer to join the Rangers had not been even at the bottom of the list. He wondered if Delenn knew what she was doing. No one in their right mind would ask a Winchester – especially not _Sam_ Winchester – to join their side. People usually steered clear of Sam and Sam had come to think that was the wise thing to do.

Of course, there were a lot of things that Delenn did not know. Sam was sure that, had she been aware of all his monumental screw-ups – Ruby and the demon blood and Lucifer and all the rest – she would have thought the best way Sam could help her Alliance was to hightail it out of the Galaxy.

"You know, most people would steer clear of us – well, of me mostly," Sam could not help pointing out. "I mean, some of my choices might disqualify me from the Rangers."

"You are not the only one who has made bad choices," Delenn pointed out reasonably. "I most certainly have done things I am not proud of."

Sam snorted, unable to mask his scepticism.

"With all due respect, Ambassador," he said. "Allow me to doubt that any choice of yours could've led to the annihilation of Earth itself."

Something flashed in Delenn's eyes as Sam said that. She covered it too quickly for Sam to pay too much attention to it, though.

"There is not a single person in this universe that hasn't done something they regret," Delenn persisted. "Everyone can make bad choices. It is how we learn. But what matters most is not the bad choices we make or how guilty we feel about them. What matters is what we do afterwards to make up for our bad choices. If one manages to break a part of the universe, the best way one can redeem oneself is by trying to keep the rest of it together.

"This is what I am offering you and your brother, Sam – a chance to help keep something together. I believe there was a reason why you came to me for help the first time, a few years ago. And maybe I am meant to offer you this path."

"And we're meant to accept it?" Sam asked warily. "What happens if we don't? What are you gonna do to us, then?"

Delenn looked slightly upset by Sam's implications.

"Do to you? I am not going to do anything to you. I will be sorry not to have you on my side – but I can hardly force you to join me, if you do not want to."

Sam was about to tell Delenn something among the lines of thanks-but-no-thanks – just as he was sure Dean would want him to do. He could not bring himself to refuse Delenn's offer outright, though. He could not lie to himself – he was tempted.

It was not as if Sam had ever enjoyed Hunting. There were plenty of times when he had done his best to plan his escape from the life fate – or his father – had planned for him. And here he was now, offered yet another way of escape. It could be done, he knew it. Ralph was living proof that it could be done. He could quit his former life and join the Rangers if he wanted to. And, if he was honest, he did want to. Only…

Only Sam was not alone in this. He had Dean to think of, too. And Sam doubted Dean would be as thrilled with Delenn's offer as he was.

"I need to talk to Dean, first," he told Delenn, eventually. "I'll let you know tomorrow what we decide."

He did not need to add what Delenn already knew – that if Dean said no, so would Sam. That was the first thing people knew about the Winchesters. It was either the both of them – or neither.

 **Sam and Dean's temporary quarters**

"She said she wants us to _what?_ What the hell, Sammy?"

Dean lost no time in expressing his disbelief at Delenn's much too generous – not to mention out of the blue – offer.

"Who the hell gave her the idea we were even _interested_? Why would she want us, anyway?"

Sam shrugged his shoulders.

"Apparently, she thinks we're good enough."

Dean scoffed. Sam was not surprised to see his brother less than thrilled about the offer. Dean's trust issues were enough to keep a team of psychologists happy for a lifetime. There was no way he would receive an offer like that and not think there was an ulterior motive behind it. Not to mention the fact that Dean had always viewed offers to quit Hunting as a personal affront.

"I assume you politely told her thanks but no thanks, Sammy," Dean went on.

A guilty look flashed across Sam's face. Dean gaped at him.

"Don't tell me you said yes!"

"Actually," Sam replied hesitantly. "I told her we'd sleep on it and give her an answer tomorrow."

Dean raised his eyebrows.

"Why do we need to sleep on it? What's with you and this sudden wish to change your allegiance? You being bit by the normal life bug again?"

Sam sighed. He knew convincing Dean was not going to be easy. He doubted if he even could. But he wanted to try.

"It's not about wanting a normal life," he began. "This wouldn't be what people call normal anyway. We'd be in space or on backwater planets most of the time, gathering intel, patrolling, engaging in risky missions…"

Once again, Dean snorted.

"So this would be different from our usual life – how? Except for the _Live for the one, die for the one_ line, which I hate to say it, Sam, but that ain't my style."

Sam hesitated. He and Dean rarely had this kind of personal talks. Usually Dean shut them down, before they got too uncomfortable. But this time Sam was hoping that with all that had happened, with Purgatory still fresh in their minds, Dean would be more lenient.

"All my life it seems I've been asked to do one thing – kill. From all our hunting jobs, to the bigger things – like getting Yellow Eyes or Lilith or Lucifer or the Leviathans. It's all been about killing something. I know," Sam added quickly seeing Dean about to protest. "I know we save lives. I know we do good. But Dean, all this death, all this struggle with destiny and with who we're supposed to be, all this sacrificing of friends, it's…it's getting pretty exhausting.

"Now, Delenn and Sheridan with this new alliance of theirs, they're trying to build something, Dean. And they're offering me – offering _us_ – a chance to be part of it. I don't know about you, but using my skills to maintain something and not to destroy would be a hell of a refreshing thing to do. It would almost make up for all my screwed up mistakes."

Dean was slightly startled by Sam's revelations. He knew Sam did not like Hunting, just as he knew Sam blamed himself for even the smallest misstep. Still, he and Sam rarely talked about what was bothering them, so Dean had not been aware until now just how affected Sam was about the last few years. He made no comment, though, but allowed Sam to go on talking. It was an uncharacteristic move on his part, but he figured he owed Sam that much, after Purgatory.

As for Sam, now that he had finally started talking, he could not stop. All his fears and frustrations, bottled inside him since he could not say when, were asking to come out – and he felt too tired to keep them only to himself anymore.

"I don't know how to say this, Dean. But something's telling me that if we continue doing what we do – I have a feeling something awful's gonna happen to us."

Dean was beginning to think he knew what was going to happen next. This was Stanford all over again – Sam doing his best to justify leaving.

"So, you're going to take Delenn up on her offer?" he asked coolly. "You're gonna quit Hunting and become a Ranger?"

Sam's eyes met his and Dean was floored by the utter exhaustion he saw in them. But there was something else there – a fierce determination that Dean had always secretly associated with his younger brother.

"Not without you, Dean," Sam said resigned. "I already told Delenn we're a matched set. She knew that herself, anyway. If you want to keep hunting – if you still think you don't owe Dad or the world or whatever enough and want to stay in the life – then I guess I'm staying, too."

For a moment, Dean was speechless. He had not expected that declaration from Sam, especially not after he had confessed how sick and tired he was of hunting and how he wanted to try something else, something that would have made him happier. And, just like that, Dean's previous hostility vanished.

It was true Dean had sacrificed a lot in the past for Sam's sake. It was also true that at times he resented Sam for Stanford and he used to wish that his younger brother had not abandoned him like that. And here they were now, Sam once again being offered the chance at a different life, a life he was clearly good at and one he would enjoy. But unlike Stanford, he was choosing to stay by Dean's side. He was choosing to make his own sacrifice for Dean's sake. And now that they came to it, Dean did not find it right. Sam should never give up his dreams for his sake. He was Dean's little brother, after all. Little brothers were not supposed to give up their dreams, especially not because of their big brother's misguided sense of loyalty to a cause they no longer truly supported.

Dean always thought it would be impossible for him to give up Hunting. It had certainly seemed painful during that year he had spent with Lisa and Ben. But there was nothing impossible and painful in offering Sam the chance to be happy. Sam, who had spent weeks of sleeplessness travelling from planet to planet in an effort to rescue Dean from Purgatory, not giving up even when he knew he would be cast into Purgatory himself; Sam, who had secretly kept the amulet Dean had carelessly cast away all those years; the little brother who confessed to Dean that he was exhausted with the life he was leading, while in the same breath offering to keep on leading the same life, if that was what Dean wished. And suddenly Dean found that there was only one choice he could make – and that there was no difficulty whatsoever in making it.

"Hey, what the hell?" he said lightly. "We've worked with worse, I guess."

Sam's head went up. He stood looking at Dean like he was seeing his brother for the first time.

"What are you saying?" he asked hoarsely.

He could barely believe that Dean was actually suggesting joining the Rangers. It was too much to hope. Sam could not help wondering if this wasn't some sort of a test – perhaps to see how weak Sam's loyalties to the job were.

Dean could see the doubt in Sam's eyes. It made him curse all the circumstances that had driven Sam to think that he wasn't the person Dean valued about all others. Dean decided that one day he would sit Sam down and he'd make his brother understand once and for all that no matter how many things came between them, they would always be each other's life-line and whatever path they took was perfect as long as they walked on it together. But not yet. Now was not the time for out-of-character declarations. Sam looked ready to fetch the holy water. Instead, Dean decided to go for levity. After all, that was his strong point in such cases.

"Just dude, one condition," he said, his tone still light. "No dark cloaks. I'd look friggin' ridiculous in them."

Sam grinned shakily, responding to his brother's attempt to lighten the situation.

"That would just mean you don't know how to wear them," he retorted. He hesitated, then added quickly: "If you won't like this we can turn back, I think. And we might find opportunities to Hunt again."

"Cas is gonna hate this," Dean said. "Minbar's off limits to him. But I suppose we can always touch base when we're on missions."

Sam bit his lips. He realised he had never heard Dean make plans about doing something other than Hunting before. He was suddenly afraid that he was asking more of Dean than his brother could give.

"Dean," he began, almost desperately, "Dean, if you don't want to, we don't have to..."

Dean was about to continue acting like it was no big deal. But he saw that Sam needed a more concrete reassurance than their usual banter if he was to believe Dean was with him all the way. He sat down next to Sam.

"Truth is, Sammy, you know how tired I was getting," he said. "All this struggling to keep the world and each other from falling apart while everyone was against us and those who were on our side kept dying...I was beginning to...uhhh….well, to feel like there was no point in anything. If you think the Rangers will give us a purpose we can follow, then I'm with you all the way, little brother."

Sam did not know what to say to that. He remembered how it used to be a long time ago, two children clinging to each other in cold motel rooms all over the Galaxy, while their father was away battling forces that should not have existed. He remembered what Dean used to say then, that it would always be the two of them against the world. Events over the years had put that claim to the test – and they were both to blame for that. At times, Sam had doubted Dean still felt the same way. But now he believed it. Now, when Dean stood beside him and firmly announced his intention to give up doing the thing he was best at in order to follow Sam on what could be an insane dream, now Sam felt that he had never been closer to his brother.

"Of course, we're gonna have to work on your issues with authority," he joked. "And your total lack of diplomacy."

Dean chuckled, relieved to see Sam accepting his gesture.

"Nah. diplomacy's boring. I'll leave it to you. After all, that's why I'm still keeping you around."

 **The** _ **Impala**_ **en route to Minbar. A few days later**

Castiel had indeed been slightly put off when Sam and Dean called him the next day and announced their plans to give up Hunting – at least for a while – and join forces with the Rangers. But he understood their motivation – maybe even better than they understood it themselves. The Winchesters always advocated free will – anything to go against their destiny. Perhaps this was their final blow in the fight against who they were supposed to be. Angels and demons and their own parents had made them so involved in the supernatural that Sam and Dean had never had any choice for something different. Perhaps their joining of the Rangers was just that: a proof to the cosmic forces that they did not own the Winchester brothers anymore – that they could be whoever they wanted and anyone who did not agree – angels, demons, God or whatever – could simply suck it up and deal with it. The Winchesters were quitting the family business and starting on a road of their choosing.

" _I wish the both of you the best of luck_ ," Castiel had said. " _And I hope to see you again, some day. You do deserve a life apart from Hunting – and if this is the life you want, I think you have both earned it."_

As they travelled to Minbar to start their training, Dean thought about his parting with Castiel. He knew it would be hard on him. Apart from Sam and Bobby, Cas had always been someone Dean was ready to rely on – and, despite all the messes Castiel had caused, that still had not changed. Dean knew he would miss him.

Dean glanced at Sam. He was bent over a Minbari dictionary, oblivious to everything that was happening around him. Dean grinned fondly. He should have expected Sam to get involved in the geeky aspects of the Rangers even before they started their training. Dean for one was more looking forward to being taught how to use that pike thing the Rangers carried around – but, then again, he was not a girl like Sam.

As if sensing that he was being watched, Sam looked up.

"Still want to do this?" he asked.

Dean raised his eyebrows.

"Kinda hard to change my mind now," he said pointedly. "I mean, we've just sealed the deal with Delenn _and_ Sheridan."

Dean recalled amused his and Sam's meeting with Sheridan. The man had looked halfway between doubtful and resigned. It was clear he did not know what to think of the Winchesters joining the Rangers. Dean had no idea what Delenn had said to convince him, but it was clear that Sheridan would be watching him and Sam for a while. It would not look good if they deserted their post before they even got to Minbar.

There was more, though. Dean had time to think over the past few days. He recalled all the incidents of their past – the deaths and the deals and the fights and the many ways they had lost each other time and time again; the many ways people tried to turn them against each other – even their own father had once told Dean he might have to kill Sam. He recalled that the very reason he and Sam existed was because they had to enact some big cosmic battle and he felt that as long as they remained involved with the supernatural, they were vulnerable to all the forces trying to use them. Well, from now on they would no longer be involved, not if they could help it. They would start something new, with people who wanted the same thing they did – freedom to decide your own course in life, autonomy. Sam would be happy in such a life. And if Sam could be happy, Dean was too.

"We're good, Sammy," he assured his brother, tapping him briefly on the shoulder. "I mean, we're still us. Whatever we go on doing, we'll still be the Winchesters – and for the first time in a hell of a long time, this feels like a good thing."

Dean could feel Sam relaxing, as the last of his doubts vanished. They grinned at each other, then turned their eyes back to the vast emptiness of space.

The _Impala_ sped on through the darkness and the stars. Sam and Dean's old life was left behind, but it did not feel like an ending to them. It was a beginning, a rebirth. The Winchester brothers were heading out to new adventures and they were doing so together. Just as it was supposed to be.

 **Hopefully you won't hate me for taking the Winchesters out of Hunting, but I felt they deserved some kind of respite after all they've been through. And since I don't see the two of them completely retiring, this looked like the next best thing. Epilogue will take us about 6 years into the future to see how - and if - the boys have adapted to their new lifestyle. And, as I've said before, there's a sequel in the works too.**


	21. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

 **And here we are, finally at the end of our journey. This story was really fun to write. I hoped you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. We haven't heard the last of the Winchesters in this universe, though. There's a sequel in the works ( a sequel to the story, not the epilogue), as well as a series of unrelated stories I'll post here as a collection. Yeah, I'm not tired of this universe yet ;)**

 **Thank you all for your interest in the story and your patience when updates were less than regular. Thanks especially to LeeMarieJack and NoilyPrat for the constant feedback. Your reviews always made me smile.**

 **Enjoy the epilogue, folks!**

 **Short explanatory note: A Gokk was a Minbari creature similar to a cat. Delenn mentions it in one episode. I remembered that and...well, I couldn't help myself, as you'll see ;)**

 ***edited after a few errors have been pointed out :)**

 **Tuzanor. Six years later**

Sam walked the streets of Tuzanor with the air of someone who was well used to the place. He was heading towards the Alliance Headquarters – the place that also housed the Anla'shok when they were not on missions. He and Dean had quarters of their own there.

Six years had passed since their unexpected career change. Sam felt they were the most rewarding and unbelievable years of his life. It was even better than Stanford. Because, this time, he'd had Dean to share it all with.

At first it had all been rather strange and it had required a lot of adjustments – from all involved. Dean most of all had a rather hard time at first – with his problems with authority and trust issues, there were a lot of compromises he had to make. Sam too had been used all his life to keeping secrets. He had found it unsettling that now he had to report most of his moves to others. Then, of course, the Winchesters had a rather unorthodox style which baffled the others. But the two yielded good results, so most of the time people just let them be.

They did not stop Hunting altogether. From time to time they had come over cases that required their attention and they would deal with such jobs, if there was no one else around to do it. Sam also had taken on a rather ambitious project in his free time. He was gathering information from all over the Alliance on strange happenings – human and alien. He hoped that one day he would have a comprehensive guide to supernatural manifestations and monsters from all over the Galaxy, which he could hand over to Garth to make Hunters' jobs much easier. It was the least he could do for the Hunting community, although some of them would no doubt frown at receiving any kind of help from Sam Winchester.

They also did not cut themselves off completely from their former world. They still met with Jody Mills every time they had a mission on Mars. In fact, Jody was more than happy to act as liaison between them and the Martian authorities whenever there was need. Castiel they saw several times a year. They had even run into Benny a few times and once had helped him when another Hunter was on his tail. Benny was behaving, so there was no reason why they should not help.

That was not to say that the past six years had been entirely smooth sailing. Complications were part of the job of a Ranger as much as they were part of Hunting. But this time Sam and Dean felt they were actually part of something, involved in the process as much as anyone else and not just being used. If there was something that John Sheridan and Delenn were good at it was encouraging dialogue. They welcomed ideas from anyone.

Sam walked quickly to his destination. He and Dean usually went on missions together. Still, at times they inevitably had to separate, pursuing individual lines of investigation. These were brief, routine errands where nothing much was likely to happen. This time, however, Sam had received a message three days before that Dean had been injured – not gravely, he was quickly assured, but enough to send him back to headquarters for a brief period of rest, and maybe Sam could join him. Sam suspected he was being asked there only because he was the only one able to keep Dean more or less in line.

Sam reached his and Dean's quarters and walked in. From somewhere inside he heard a muffled thump and a very creative tirade of swear words coming from Dean. He raised his eyebrows.

"Uh, Dean?" he called out. "You OK, man?"

Another crash sounded and a small ball of grey fur emerged from the other room and hid under a table. Dean came after it. He looked all right, if a bit irritated. His arm was in a sling, but he was standing up fine, so Sam decided there really was nothing to worry about. He turned his attention instead to more puzzling matters.

"That's a Gokk."

Dean snorted.

"Really?" he asked sarcastically. "And here I was thinking it was you. It certainly was bitchy enough."

Sam ignored the insult in favour of satisfying his curiosity.

"Why is there a Gokk in our quarters, Dean?" he asked, slightly baffled.

Cautiously, he edged his way to the table and bent down to have a better look. The creature came forward to sniff at him and Sam raised his hand slowly to stroke the furry head.

"Hey there," he said smiling.

"Don't get too attached," Dean warned. "I ain't keeping it longer than I have to."

Sam straightened up to look at his brother.

"What I don't get is why he's here in the first place."

"Because I'm on babysitting duty," Dean muttered.

Sam raised his eyebrows.

"I asked for something to do," Dean went on. "I was going crazy here. And I said I was ready to do anything, just don't let me die of boredom. By anything, I meant review reports or interview recruits or whatever. But those high up have a screwed up sense of humour."

Sam still looked confused. He could not understand why anyone would give Dean a Gokk to keep himself busy – although, he had to admit the method could be effective.

"That thing you're drooling over is for David," Dean finally explained. "His birthday is next week and apparently his parents thought that...that demon-spawn is an appropriate gift for a five-year-old."

When he had turned five, Sam had received from his father a small pocket knife complete with training on how to use it. What he had actually wanted was a puppy. He suddenly felt inexplicably envious of David Sheridan.

"All kids want pets," he pointed out. "You must've done so too, at one point."

"Why would I need a pet? You took up all of my time. You were just as bad as Bitch-face, here."

Sam snorted.

"Naming it? What happened to not getting attached? And dude – keep that name to yourself. Don't corrupt David by teaching him something like Bitch-face."

"Well, he'll be around you quite a lot. He might as well get use to the term since it suits you so well 80% of the time."

The corners of Sam's mouth twitched and he tried hard not to show his amusement.

"Bite me, Dean," he retorted.

"Nah, ask Bitch-face to do it. His teeth are sharp enough. Good thing you're here, though. You can keep an eye on him."

Sam frowned.

"Dude, I just got back," he protested. "I've spent the whole trip wondering what happened to you. I'm tired."

Sam had nearly said he had been worried. He stopped himself, though. A lot of things had changed for the Winchesters, but a lot of things also stayed the same. There were still things they did not admit out loud.

Dean must have guessed what Sam was not saying. A brief flash of understanding softened his features. But that did not mean he was going to let Sam off the hook.

"And I had my flier crash on a friggin' asteroid," he pointed out. "So, I win."

Sam could have pointed out that it was Dean who had been whining about having nothing to do that had got him stuck with babysitting – or Gokksitting – duties in the first place. He knew it would be of no use, though. He took the little Gokk in his arms and resigned himself with having to keep an eye on him until he was delivered to his future owner. Truth be told, he did not really mind much.

Later that night, Sam and Dean stood on the balcony, watching the stars. It was a tradition of theirs they had started a long time ago. Whenever they were on the ground, they would spend a night looking out at the stars. It was a way of remaining connected with Space – the Space that had once been their only true home.

The Gokk was sleeping between them, finally tired out by a day of running around the quarters. Sam had spent half the time chasing him and he felt just as exhausted. Dean, of course, had spent half the time laughing at Sam and making bets about who would win – the Gokk or Sam.

The night was peaceful. From somewhere in the city, they could hear the echoes of song. The Minbari were big on art. They might have had more sober ways of entertaining themselves that the humans, but that did not mean they did not have an inkling of how to enjoy life.

At times Sam almost forgot that the life of a Ranger was not the only life he had known. He certainly felt as if he had been made for this. And, from time to time, he could see that Dean was too. Despite his rather irreverent attitude, Dean was considered one of the best among the Anla'shok.

Sam glanced at Dean. He looked peaceful and content. And suddenly Sam remembered a question that had come to him some time ago. He needed to know the answer.

Sam cleared his throat. They usually did not talk during their nights of stargazing. The moments they shared then were beyond words. But this time Sam wanted the reassurance.

"Hey, Dean?" he began hesitantly.

Dean turned his head partly to face Sam, indicating that he was listening.

"Do you regret it?" Sam asked.

Dean raised his eyebrows.

"You know, if I was a Telepath, I'd probably know what you think I'm supposed to regret."

"This," Sam clarified. "The Rangers. Quitting Hunting and all that. I know you said when we decided to do this that we were cool. But it's been six years. Are we still good?"

Dean turned around fully to look at Sam. His brother was no longer looking at him. His eyes were on the stars. Dean did not miss the tight expression on his face and he knew that his next words could keep Sam's world together or send it crashing down. Funny, how it could still go that way, after all those years. Even now.

They had found quickly that joining the Rangers had brought them a support system of people they could trust – Delenn and Sheridan and Rangers such as Ralph and Llewellyn and many others. The Winchesters were no longer alone. Despite that, Sam and Dean still gravitated towards each other. And perhaps that made their bond even stronger. It was easy to cling to someone when that person was all you had left. Wishing to still stand beside that person even though there were plenty of other people who supported you, that was what true brotherhood meant.

Dean was not surprised Sam was slightly worried about his commitment to being a Ranger. Dean knew he had made a lot of noise at the start, complaining about most of what they were shown in training ("Dude, really, _meditation_? What's this, Earth during the 1960's?"; "Seriously, man, why are we being taught Minbari? How's that gonna help me in combat? I'll be able to swear in two languages instead of one?"). Still, after so much time had passed with Dean giving no indication that he wanted to turn back, he would have thought that would be enough to quell Sam's worries. Apparently, his brother needed verbal reassurance right now.

"Tell me something, Sammy: are you happy?"

Sam looked slightly startled by the question.

"Am I…? Yeah: for the first time in a long time, I think I am. I think I've found my place here, Dean."

Dean nodded, satisfied.

"Then there's nothing to regret, is there?"

Sam frowned.

"That's not gonna work, Dean. You've got as much right as me to be happy. _Are you?_ "

Dean was about to make light of the question. Sam was earnest enough, though. And Dean wondered how long his brother had been parading in his head the idea that he was making Dean miserable with their new lifestyle. It did not matter. Dean would put a stop to that anxiety tonight, hopefully for good.

"You know," Dean began thoughtfully. "For a long time I could hardly imagine any life outside of Hunting, at least none that I would be good at," he went on, ignoring Sam's barely contained flinch. "I thought it all fit. But then came Hell and the Apocalypse and Purgatory. And then came this. And I won't deny I thought it a friggin' weird career change, but hey, it works.

"And I do good here. We both do. And in the end, that's what Dad taught us best – to help people. We're certainly helping now.

"I've got a purpose. I've got a place to call my own, weird as it is. And...uhh...well, you're here. So, I suppose the answer to your question is yes, Sammy. I'm quite all right with all of this. I don't regret a thing."

Dean saw Sam visibly relax. Even though he did not turn to look at his brother, there was a smile playing on Sam's lips. Dean could not help but smile back. He tilted his head and resumed his stargazing. The land was quiet now, the only sound they could hear was their synchronised breathing and the snores of the sleeping Gokk.

They had come a long way. They had survived longer than any would have predicted. And they were still there. Still together. Still them.

Sam and Dean glanced at each other briefly and grinned. Yes, they were still the Winchester brothers. And they wouldn't change who they were for the world.


End file.
